


Quiet Time Drinking Parties

by oly_chic



Series: Quiet AU [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 23:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7822174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oly_chic/pseuds/oly_chic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The twins raise Prowl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gallery

**Author's Note:**

> AKA "Can't Believe You're Ours Sometimes."
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers.
> 
> I decided to get this off my backburner. Needed a pick-me-up. I was going for comedy and instead got what's literally the fluffiest thing I've ever written. 
> 
> Both twins treat Prowl as their own creation, so hence no ref to who actually carried him. The creation-creator bond applies to both halves of the same spark. Sire's not in the picture; my reasoning is that this is all about twins trying to parent while keeping up their shenanigans.

Sideswipe walked around the gallery holding their small sparkling against his shoulder, curled up in his arm and looking sleepy. He was careful to not touch the budding chevron or tiny doorwings of their half-Praxian sparkling who somehow looked nothing like them and all like his sire.

He softly jostled Prowl. "Hey sweet Prowler, this one is Sunstreaker's, too. What'd you think?"

Tiny doorwings silently flapped. Somehow Prowl had gotten it into his helm that clapping could be done with doorwings. His hands curled up in Sideswipe's armor seams as he tried going back to recharge again.

Sideswipe wasn't having that, not at his twin's shared gallery displayed. He jostled him again, slightly less soft. That got him an annoyed look and an equally annoyed wave across the bond.

Sunstreaker sensed that bit. ~What are you doing to him?~

~Just trying to keep him online. Sparkling's not having this.~

~Give him some energon. I'll be over there soon.~

~Nah, no worries about it. He's just being Sir Cranky Shafts. Focus on finding buyers.~ Normally that was Sideswipe's job but at galleries Sunstreaker tried his best. His lack of salesmech charisma was usually overlooked by these types of cliental.

He pulled a sippy-topped bottle out of subspace. "Hungry, Prowler?"

More doorwing movements, moving together sideways like a helm shake. Sideswipe sighed. "Use your words, Prowl."

"No." The doorwings moved the same again. Did that mean no he wasn't hungry and no he wouldn't use (anymore) words, only one part of that thought, or something else that only sparkling logic could understand?

"Come on, words are fun! See how I'm using them? And how I can say a lot more than doorwings. Like how I can describe Creator Sunny's painting as festively bright." Festively bright was an overstatement, but there were bright colors in the depiction of their city, Iacon, as it showed off some sort of social commentary.

The comment earned him another annoyed look and unhappy bond emotion. He tried, "Do you want your puzzle?"

Prowl immediately perked up and nodded his doorwings, and finally his helm too. Still holding onto the energon bottle, Sideswipe pulled out what was Prowl's security toy. He had a security toy and blanket, but the latter rarely came out in public. The puzzle was a six-sided cube with multiple colors and pictures, where the colors had to be on the same side and the pictures had to be in order. Neither twin could ever do it, mostly because they couldn't bring themselves to stay interested that long, but little Prowl had beaten it three times in the few mega-orns he had it. Sideswipe was almost certain it was Prowl's security toy because it proved he was already smarter than his creators.

Almost smarter. "What's that called, Prowl?" Sideswipe pointed at the picture.

Prowl held his puzzle close and peered at it. Eventually he frowned and shook his doorwings and helm.

"It's called an _umbrella_. It's for rain protection over the weird religious monoformers while they pray. Or something. Can you say _umbrella_?" Sunstreaker's painting had both monoformers and transformers using umbrellas. Sideswipe didn't get the reference. Probably something about everyone being equally weird.

No response. Prowl went back to his puzzle.

Sideswipe petted his small helm encouragingly. "Come on, Prowl, words. Remember, words good. Unnecessary silence bad."

"u.M.Br.Ell.A," he finally said, slightly off on his enunciated letters.

"Yay, words! Let's keep it up."

Prowl rewarded Sideswipe with a pat on the mouth, which was his version of "hush now." He went back to his puzzle.

That wasn't going to be rewarded back. Nope, Prowl was going to learn about art galleries. This wasn't his first, but it was his first since he was old enough to know better. "Prowl," he started as sternly as he could, "you may hold the puzzle but you need to pay attention to the gallery."

Prowl looked up at him, and then back at the puzzle.

Little defiant spawn of them. "Don't make me take the toy away."

Prowl laughed across the bond. He knew Creator Sideswipe wouldn't dare, or else he'd make such a fuss.

"Don't make me take you outside in the garden. It's empty in the garden. No amount of fussing will work out there."

Prowl stopped laughing and give Creator Sideswipe his biggest, saddest pout. He dropped his doorwings as far down as their hinges allowed, mimicking the full-Praxians at his orncare.

"Don't give me that look. You can keep the toy if you promise to pay attention."

The pout turned into a frown but helm and doorwings nodded. Sideswipe resisted reminding Prowl to flipping use words. He knew Prowl could speak plenty well for his age, he just rarely did. It was not helping him at the orncare with the other sparklings, especially with those stuck up Praxian parents not wanting their full-Praxian sparklings playing with a half-Praxian. To Pit with them, Prowl was going to be all their boss some orn.

"Okay, so getting back to this umbrella one..." Sideswipe started over with his describing of the painting, occasionally prompting Prowl to use his words and getting just under a third of them verbally answered.

As they neared the last art piece they hadn't visited Prowl started getting fidgety. His doorwings were moving strangely in flurried twitches, and without words the doorwing-less mech had no idea what that meant.

Luckily someone else had before seen the new development. Sunstreaker explained on his approach, "He's hungry. He wants the bottle."

Nodding doorwings and a tiny hand finally reaching out for his creator's clutched bottle. Sideswipe handed it to the sparkling. Prowl tried balancing his six-sided cube and the bottle, only to lose the bottle.

Sunstreaker caught it and was glade the expensive sippy top kept the energon from spilling out. After an accident with some artwork, they bought anything that kept from spilling. Prowl's doorwings were growing faster than the rest of his body now, and his balance was off.

Creator Sunstreaker held the bottle up and tried taking the puzzle. Prowl tucked it into Sideswipe's shoulder and curled his body around it. No one was taking his puzzle away.

The yellow twin checked his chronometer. It was getting late enough that if Prowl didn't have his meal soon, they'd be force to put him to recharge without it or have him stay up too late and be extra cranky at the orncare. There was no way Sunstreaker was going through either of those scenarios again.

"Prowler, how about I hold the bottle and you can keep the cube?" Sunstreaker really wished the security blanket was the one Prowl held onto all the time. At least a bottle and blanket could be handled.

Prowl released his captive toy from his creator's shoulder and sat up straighter. Sideswipe rotated his arms around so that Prowl was easier for Sunstreaker to reach. Prowl leaned against Sideswipe's shoulder, his tiredness coming back now that he couldn't easily rest against his red creator's body.

Sunstreaker held the bottle and Prowl started drinking, one hand on the bottle with tiny fingers wrapped around bigger fingers. The other hand held the cube near Prowl's optics, and the sparkling's optics moved between it and his creators. He slowly rotated the toy around, sometimes with both hands before putting one back on the bottle.

"So how'd it go?" Sideswipe asked.

"Successful," Sunstreaker half-grunted, half-muttered. "Not as successful as when you do it, but successful enough to justify picking up some high-grade on our way home and getting hammered after he goes to recharge."

"That's my second favorite type of hammered!" First was bar-hammered. He missed freely visiting bars after dark. "Can we go yet?"

"I'm just waiting for the art dealer to give me the okay on making sure the credits transferred." Little fingers squeezed his and Sunstreaker pulled the bottle away. Some of it was slowly dribbling down Prowl's chin, so the sparkling used his fingers to clean and lick it off. He didn't tolerate stickiness or filth.

They talked about the gallery a little longer until Prowl finished his slow drinking. The dealer freed Sunstreaker from his artist duties not long before Prowl finished, but walking with a drinking Prowl usually ended in an irked sparkling constantly trying to clean himself up.

Since Sideswipe had Prowl he waited until Sunstreaker transformed into alt mode so he could strap him down in the back, where they had sparkling seats installed so the little one was safely guarded from accidents or hard braking. He wrapped him up in his security blanket, its pattern of black and white chevrons. Sunstreaker had colored a few of them red to match his growing chevron.

Sideswipe transformed and they drove to their favorite small venue for high-grade, serving some strange flavor concoctions that Sideswipe loved to try by gambling with his tank's comfort level. So far it was mostly a win.

Sideswipe transformed and was pinged by his brother. ::Can you reach in and fix him? He fell offline and his helm rolled to the side. He's going to get a crick in his neck.::

Sunstreaker opened his door and Sideswipe reached into the back seat, rearranging the blanket around the offline sparkling's helm until it was propped upright on both sides and in front. He subspaced the fallen toy. "Looks like his neck his safe. Got any specifics in mind?"

::Nothing weird. By _my_ definition of weird.::

"So nothing that fizzles and pops, or named after an animal?"

::Frag no.::

"You're so dull sometimes. Like another snobby artist after these galleries. You need to party and cut loose."

::Not a chance. It's was a long opening for the artists. Just because _you_ got there late doesn't mean the first two joors didn't happen.::

Knowing what he wanted and what limited selection was available for his brother, Sideswipe was gone barely more than a breem. "High-grade 35/80 for you, 'Fizzily Silver Jumping Turbofox on High' for me."

::If you have to purge your tanks, you're going to the lobby's freshening room.::

"The last time I purged Prowl didn't wake up. Now let's go, I can't wait to figure out what 'on high' means. I bet it's gonna be like a mini party in my mouth and cortex."

When they arrived at their apartment complex Sideswipe begrudgingly transformed. Time to remove a sparkling who was hyper aware of be moved after offlining. They were getting better at moving him without disruption but they weren't quite there yet.

He reached in and unwrapped Prowl's blanket so he could rewrap his whole body, softening their movements. The sparkling was halfway out before his doorwings started twitching. Whimpering soon followed, and then the limbs began trying to fight him off.

"Shh, it's okay sweet Prowler," Sideswipe cooed. Sunstreaker sent little waves of warmth and love to the sparkling, soothing his spark.

The threatening cry in the little vocalizer died down, ending in a hiccup from the disrupted use. Sunstreaker transformed and his twin held out the bleary-opticked sparkling. "You carry him upstairs. I carried him for the whole gallery."

"Whiner. Wimp."

"Passive-aggressive aggressor."

"What does that even mean?"

"I dunno, but it sounds right."

They walked past the lobby and up the two flights of stairs of the small complex, cooing and sending the sparkling little pulses of warmth every time the sparkling looked like he might cry. They were especially attentive when they passed their next-door neighbor's door, keeping quiet for the old crotchety and yelling mech. He didn't like them much, especially after that time he woke up Prowl and Sideswipe later rewarded him by yelling through the wall the next orn while Prowl was at orncare.

"Story time, sweet little Prowler!" Sideswipe sang once their door closed.

"I'm not sure he needs a story."

"Yes, story time," the tiny voice protested, slurred with the need for recharge.

"Oh my Primus, did you use words? Yay, Prowler!" Sideswipe cheered. "Let's keep using them. Okay?"

Doorwings shook "no" from under the blanket.

Sideswipe dramatically sighed with all his vents. "Well, I tried. What story?"

Prowl signaled with his hands to be put down and Sunstreaker obliged. He kept hold of the wrapped sparkling's hand as he walked behind Prowl, bent over to maintain that hold the whole walk. Prowl waddled over to his room of the two-berthroom apartment, still working on finding his balance again. The problem mostly existed because of his Praxian frame coding starting to overtake what oddly little influence his Kaonite coding had on his frame. The twins were each watching that closely, as was his pediatrician to make sure it didn't get too out of hand. So long as he didn't get doorwings the size of Seeker wings, compared to the rest of his body, they figured he'd be okay.

When they got to his bookshelf Sunstreaker let go and Prowl crouched down until he was kneeling at his lowered shelf. He loved books. Half of the books Prowl could read and the other half were for the twin creators to read. He especially loved the books both twins could read at the same time.

He plucked out one such book about two twin prince brothers and handed it up to his creators. Sideswipe pulled up Prowl and set him down on the oversized berth they got him just so they wouldn't have to move him after reading.

"Toy?" Prowl asked when he was sat down, reaching out from behind his blanket. Sideswipe gave it back and Prowl held it while keeping his optics on the book. Most books came on datapads, but sparklings loved the feel of flipping pictures and Prowl was no exception. Sometimes he'd take over and flip for them.

Sunstreaker started after nestling Prowl between the twins. "Once upon a time, there was a kingdom named 'Vos.' There were many princes but only two shared a spark."

Sunstreaker narrated, Sideswipe voiced dialogue, for the three breems it took before Prowl fell into recharge. They climbed around his recharging form and tucked him in better. Sunstreaker put the toy on his recharging stand, and Sideswipe turned on the lullaby music to cancel out most adult noises being made from outside.

After closing the door Sideswipe let out a stage-whisper, "Whoo! Drinking time. Party up in here!" He handed Sunstreaker his drink container from his subspace.

"I said no party."

"Too bad, so sad. Because there's going to be a party up in here."

"Please don't tell me you've invited friends."

"'Invited' is such a strong word. How about casually mentioned a few fun drinking games they could attend?"

"That's the literal definition of inviting."

Sideswipe snickered as quiet as he could while moving to the kitchenette, pouring his drink. "I didn't say, 'hey, come on over.' Just 'hey, if you want to come over feel free.'"

"Because you know at least three or four always show up. When are they getting here?"

There was a soft knock on the door. Sideswipe shrugged. "I guess now. I did tell them I'd comm. them as soon as Prowler was in recharge. They must've been waiting in the lobby."

Sideswipe threw opened the door and ushered in their five friends. "Let's get this started, but I swear if one of you wakes Prowl I'm kicking all of you out. Now, who wants to find out what 'Fizzily Silver Jumping Turbofox on High' tastes like?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some time back a woman told me about how her grandma's generation in her fam's part of India was really strict, her mother's generation was rebellious and wild, and her generation was mostly conservative with little touch of rebellion. And hence this fic's idea was born.


	2. Games and Timeout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm both sad about car's electrical problems and I got back from a baby shower this weekend. I think I just held a baby for the second or third time in my life. That means more on the sparkling fic!
> 
> (In no way does this actually tie into what happened. Mostly.)

"Nuuuu...gh," Sideswipe moaned, starting to roll over and stopping when it felt like the liquefied insides of his helm swooshed with the movement. His optics stayed dark. He was never going to drink anything that ended with "on high" again. Twice the effects while drinking, twice the fall into Hangover Land.

-

_The group of seven sat evenly space along a round card table that Sideswipe kept. In the middle was an open container in the shape of a mech, slowly being filled with different high-grades. Each mech had their own small cup and a bottle, the cup refilled and a new set of cards in hands each time. Losers took a shot, winner poured his shot into the mech-shaped container. At the end of the game when the center container was full, all but the mech with the highest points would share in drinking the potentially devastating mixture. According to Sunstreaker, what would kill them would be Sideswipe's drink. The red brother disagreed. He was loving this game and didn't care he was too drunk to play his cards close to as good as he usually did._

_Music played at a calculated decibel to muffle laughter and taunts without interfering with Prowl's lullaby music. The rules were that everyone had to follow the "quiet time games: drinking edition" rules, but the twins knew some games got closely out-of-hand._

_At the end it was Sunstreaker who won and Sideswipe gleefully took his 1/6th of the mech-container, not carrying in the least of the taste of seven different high-grades mixing. He'd be fine._

-

Why was his chronometer going off? It was Sunny's orn to take Prowl to orncare. He swung his leg until it connected with something that groaned right back. "Time to get Prowl up."

"No, it's your turn," was the muffled reply, spoken into the berth."'Member? You promised to take Prowl this orn if I forgave you for being so late."

"I invoke a deferment."

"Vetoed. Now get up."

Being a hungover creator was up there on his list of things to avoid, just before being a hungover creator in public, driving and carrying around a sparkling. He was young and allowed to have fun when his duties were more along the lines of an on-call creator, dang it, so stop it with the looks. He'd never been overcharged or even semi-overcharged when Prowl was online, sans one time with a late bad dream.

By pure memory he wandered into the one washrack, in the open hallway, keeping his optics off. An extra wash before sharing it with their sparkling might do the trick, especially if it was scalding hot. He stayed under the solvent spray past the "wake up Prowl" alert, slowly readjusting to the world and mentally gearing up to brave optical input.

"Creator."

He braved it and powered on his optics to see the now-opened door, a sparkling sitting on his knees and rubbing his own optics. "You don't recharge in, do you?"

Blank expression. Sideswipe started dialing back the solvent temperature. "You don't even know what the means." His words were confirmed with that double-shake Prowl was now into doing. "I think even the caretakers at the orncare said you're always out of naptime on time. We need to teach you our ways of relaxing."

"Creator." Prowl held out his hands.

"Wait, sweetspark. I'm making sure the temperature is safe." A long klik later it was safe enough for him to fetch Prowl. He held him while washing all the way until the end, where he sat him down at the opposite end of the spray so Sideswipe could finish.

"Do you feel like walking to breakfast?"

The torn expression was eventually conceded to a double-nod. Sideswipe bent over and pulled him up with both hands, intended to help turn him around. Instead Prowl pulled up his legs and swung by his hands.

The weight abruptly exceeding his expectation almost pulled the hungover mech down but he managed to stiffen his back struts and pull back in time. He rotated Prowl around quickly and the sparkling put his peds down.

Sideswipe didn't want to stay bent over for the remainder of the walk. He could feel the threatening purge. "Do you think you can hold onto my leg armor and walk with me?"

Double-shake.

"Can you try?"

Prowl gave him a displeased pulse across the bond but accepted the request, using Sideswipe's hands to guide himself to Sideswipe's leg seams. He latched onto the seams with a tight but diminutive grasp, and then swept his doorwings to say "go forward."

Sideswipe didn't understand but could infer well enough. He walked upright slowly, just as much for his benefit as the lopsided sparkling's. His doorwings were still small and an ignorant mech would assume only a tad bigger than expected, but he swore those doorwings grew a whole sparkling finger width during recharge. At this rate the upgraded armor was not going to keep up.

At the kitchenette Prowl drank his energon from a sippy-cup, able to steadily use the two handles while he could hold his posture in the highchair. Sideswipe envied handles. "Where's the one we're throwing out?" he muttered to himself. One of cups had a broken lip and was supposed to get tossed in the garbage. He found it next to the garbage and cleaned it up, unconcerned about the lip as he sipped his own energon.

"Need to buy these for adult mechs," he kept muttering as he refilled the small cup. Prowl giggled and twitched his doorwings in a bobbing fashion. Maybe that was a quick nod, maybe it was the companion movement to laughing. Sideswipe scribbled a note on the wall-mounted screen for Sunstreaker to pick up a translation datapad or software for Praxian doorwing speech - but to make sure from a store with a good return policy, just in case Prowl was doing his own thing.

"Almost ready?" he asked the finished sparkling.

Double-nod. "Puzzle?"

"Yeah, I grab that. Want your blanket?"

"That's for newsparks."

"Having a blanket out in public?"

Double-nod. "Puzzle."

"Right." Sideswipe took a swig of the small cup's energon and fetched the quarter-completed puzzle. He gave it to Prowl when he belatedly remembered he hadn't yet packed energon and snacks. One whiff of the refrigerator's snacks and Sideswipe stumbled backwards. "Have these always been this acidic?"

Prowl looked up and spared him only a shrug. Sideswipe decided to forgo reminding Prowl about the power of words. Disabling his olfactory sensors he prepared the energon "big sparkling" cups (with sippy-tops) and snack inside a cold container.

"Okay," he said as he subspaced it and grabbed Prowl, willing himself to sparkling-carry and walk like a completely sober creator. Based on the occasional annoyed emotion from Prowl he was not 100% succeeding. Close though. Close enough for him to be proud - but also glad that Sunstreaker went back to recharge and was missing this entirely.

Outside he set Prowl down on the only nature patch by the street. He unraveled an installed sparkling-assist cable and handed the end to Prowl. He transformed into alt mode and Prowl followed the tensioned reeling cable into his sparkling seat. He secured himself with the few straps and went back to his puzzle.

The social and talkative creator started driving and as soon as he merged onto the steady highway he worked on getting Prowl to talk more than the occasional three words, so that he might make friends at the orncare. "Anything planned this orn by the caretakers?"

Double-shake. Sideswipe sighed through his internal vents, blowing some of the air on the sparkling's plating. "Can we please use words this orn?"

Another double-shake and Prowl was focused on that puzzle. Sideswipe tried another tactic. "If you don't talk, then I'm going to keep talking for the both of us. Sound good? You got to _say_ yes or no before I get to zero, or else it's nonstop Sideswipe Talk Time Show until we get there. Five... four... three..."

Prowl looked up at his creator's interior instead of his toy and gave Sideswipe the most indignant glare he could muster. He sent _unhappy-grumpy_ through the bond. ~Creator Sides is too talky.~

~Two... one...~

"Yes. What, creator?"

Sideswipe was immensely proud with himself for finally finding a victorious method over the stubborn sparkling. "Is there any planned at the orncare?"

"Don't know."

"Going to play with anyone?"

"Don't know."

So maybe it wasn't entirely victorious. He tried a more open-ended question. "Is there anyone there you would play with?"

"Yes."

"Who, Prowl? Names, descriptions."

"Hound and Jazz. Smokescreen played once but then his creators said he had to be careful. Think they said he didn't play right?"

Hound was a sparkling he'd seen a few times. Jazz was a new name and had no matching possible faces. Smokescreen was one of the full-Praxians and Sideswipe had a hunch on what the creators meant.

Not that he'd tell their precious sparkling. Dealing with those kinds of mechs was Sideswipe's specialty. "Who's Jazz?"

"Older sparkling. One upgrade more than me."

"Then why isn't he at the care center for schooling?" The orncare was more like preschooling, for households or sparklings that needed it. One upgrade above Prowl should be in early schooling.

"He got hurt." Prowl shrugged. "Optics don't work right anymore. He comes to the orncare late because of really early orn specialty schooling, and then leaves early for doctor. Doctor is near the orncare."

That explains why Sideswipe never saw him. "So he can't see?"

"Not with his optics. Sees with visor, but sees weird?" he shrugged again. "He's weird, but nice. Nicer than the Seekers that come when Seeker Care grounds them."

"What kind of sparkling is he?" Since they were on the topics of Praxians and Seekers he might as well ask.

"Paul-ee-hex-E-an."

"Polyhexian," he corrected. Mentally he frowned, realizing that Prowl might be ahead of sparklings his age but his progress was slipping. He scanned the vehicles around him until he spotted a blue vehicle with a very unique frame type riding inside. "Prowl, do you see what's inside the car to my right?"

"Yes?"

"It's a quadrapedal transformer. We're bipedal. Do you know what it's called?" He hoped Prowl would say cat.

"Dog."

"No, cat."

"Whatever." He went back to his puzzle, done with talking so much.

 _'It's like the "green" association thing all over again_ ,' he grimly realized. When sparklings saw color for the first time they learned to associate their optical input with new or pre-learned words (aka words taught through the _creator-creation_ bond prior to separation, although in their case it was through a _twins-creation_ bond). Sunstreaker had been sure Sideswipe botched his involvement of teaching because Prowl had a problem with green, and it wasn't optical.

 -

_"Prowl, what's that color?" Sunstreaker pointed to the Iacon crystals and asked while holding the newsparkling. They were nearing his first upgrade. Sideswipe was hanging back by a step._

_"Purple."_

_"Good. What's that color?"_

_"Blue."_

_"Yes. What's that color?" He pointed to a bench colored what he knew was called "wenge", but was ready to accept a simple "brown."_

_Prowl stared at it. "Green?"_

_Sunstreaker looked over his shoulder and gave Sideswipe a withered glare. "No, brown. What's that crystal's color?" That one's was called "amaranth", but he'd accept "pink" or even "red."_

_"Green?"_

_The withered glare returned with a heated elemented added. Sideswipe silently mouthed, "What?"_

_"It's pink. What's that color?" He pointed to a green crystal._

_He stared hard. "Cream?"_

_"No, it's green. Damn it, Sideswipe. What did you do?!"_

 -

It took a second trip to the gardens to get Prowl to sort out his colors and their names. That wasn't Prowl's fault, though; Sunstreaker had been so angry at Sideswipe they had to leave so the yellow twin could calm down. Sunstreaker was going to blame him if Prowl didn't understand his basic transformer shapes and types. He'd ask the orncare for help as soon as they got there.

The ride wasn't much longer before they got to the orncare. Normally Sideswipe checked Prowl in and then heads off to his merchant job, but this time on his way to the orncare he rescheduled his first meeting so he had opportunity to talk to a caretaker. At the receptionist desk he asked, "Can I see one of the caretakers? I got a vocab problem." He pointed to the counter, above where Prowl was leaning.

"Of course. I'll page Beachcomber."

"Doesn't he have a small vocabulary of actually used words?"

"Being around such young sparklings of so many different education levels does that." The receptionist leaned over the counter. "Hi Prowl. Do you want someone or your creator perhaps to walk you to the arts and crafts table? That's where your group is starting."

Prowl looked up at Sideswipe and wiggled his doorwings upward twice. Sideswipe had no idea what that was, but he knew Prowl didn't like others walking him. "Sure, I'll take him over there and meet this Beachcomber."

They went to the arts and crafts table and Prowl took the seat next to the friendly and calm Hound. Sideswipe coaxed Prowl into setting the puzzle down. Beachcomber showed up and the two went to a back wall where they could easily see the sparklings without being heard.

"What's up, mech?" Beachcomber asked.

"I got a problem with Prowl. He doesn't care that he called a cat 'dog.' His other creator is so going to freak out if that's not corrected ASAP. Like 'before they're both in the same room or it happens over the bond' ASAP. Can you help me with that?"

"Yeah, I dig where you're coming from. But listen, sparklings learn better with their creators, my good mech. I know you got a job, but if you can stay at least a little I can give you a bookfile on a huge datapad filled with all kinds of info you can go through with him. Can you dig that or do you need something else?"

' _Someone's been spending too much time in a relaxation room._ ' Sideswipe was still appreciative of the offer. "I can move a few more meetings around, I think. Are they staying at that table for a while?"

"Yeah, until second energon break. They got a recess between energon breaks."

"Okay. Put the datapad next to Prowl. I'm going to make some comm. calls."

"Alright, my good mech."

He moved further back into the hallway and behind an office wall to start his comm. calls. He opened his entire schedule as a precautionary measure. Making sure Prowl wasn't going to get him in trouble was more important than an easy orn tomorrow. Finishing his final call he spotted one full-Praxian family, Smokescreen and his creators. Smokescreen was pointing at Prowl. He couldn't quite pickup what the sparkling was say so he slipped in closer.

Smokescreen's sire's words were easier to hear. "Don't point at that halfie. It's not nice to point."

Sideswipe's optics opened wide and he almost yelled at them right then. The only thing that stopped him was the sparkling. "But he's got his puzzle. I want a puzzle like that. Can I please have one?"

"What puzzle?"

"One by the datapad and empty adult chair."

"Someone going to teach that halfie some more lessons?" the sire asked the receptionist.

The receptionist looked uncomfortably stiff. "That sparkling's creator is going to be doing some private tutoring. Sir, we've asked you to keep your language polite..."

"How is the truth impolite? Oh, you're one of _those_. Listen, we pay enough that we're probably subsidizing that halfie's part. If I'm subsidizing his part, then I'm going to say the truth."

 _'Aw, look. Somebody's orn just got super painfully worse; they just don't know it yet.'_ Sideswipe mocked. He was glad he was moving all of his meetings, because lesson-teaching-through-pranking just became the second highest important task on his list. Plus no one was subsidizing their payments, so that so-called mech was all-around insulting Sides' family.

On the outside Sideswipe appeared to be continuing his commlink calls. He walked to the receptionist desk as if absentminded, crashing into Smokescreen's sire. "Umph!"

They tumbled down and Sideswipe used the jumbled tumbling of limbs to stick one of his invoice tracking devices on the Praxian's wheel well inner edge. "Super sorry, sir." He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

The mech barely got more than a few snarled words out before Sideswipe was up and giving him a flippant goodbye. "See ya later. I got to go continue being a positive role model for my sparkling."

"Bar hopping isn't a trait of a positive role model."

Oh, how Sideswipe wanted to retort back about how _even if_ Prowl knew that about Sideswipe, it was a far cry from what that "mech" was passing down. After Sideswipe was done, Smokescreen's sire (and the equally rude carrier by proxy) wouldn't be teaching Smokescreen cruelly intended actions and words again. Instead he opted for continuing his flippant goodbye with a very flippant wave off. Oh yes, Sideswipe knew how to plan teaching a sparkling by mid-orn break and then horribly pranking someone before it was time to head back to the orncare.

"Hi, Prowl!" Sideswipe saluted as he took the seat left for him. "Did Caretaker Beachcomber tell you why I'm sticking around?"

Prowl actually silently clapped his doorwings. "Story time?"

"Um, maybe? He got me a nifty bookfile for us to use, but I don't know if it's a story."

Luckily it was, and either unluckily or not, Sideswipe's method of interactive story time lessons got several sparklings interested. On one hand it would improve Prowl's chances of making friends, but then Sideswipe was having a tough time teaching Prowl when other sparklings kept trying to answer his "who's that?" or "what's that?" questions.

As it neared first meal break Sideswipe heard eager scuffled steps running behind him."Hiya, all. Hi, Prowlee! Is this that red creator of yours?"

Sideswipe recognized the thick Polyhexian accent. Twisting around, he looked at a white-black-blue sparkling in his very-young youngling upgrade stages. He was holding his energon refrigerative bag. "Yuppers. You Jazz?"

"Yuppers, too. I hear you're a Kaonite. You look like one," The thick accent made that sound like "Ah hear yer ah Ka-on-knight? Ya loo' li'e one." The youngling kept talking despite the delayed understanding for Sideswipe. "Sensor horns for Kaonites are just like us Polyhexian's horns."

"You got it. Except a bit less sensitive."

"Oh yeah. How come Prowl doesn't have sensor horns?"

Prowl pawed at his audials. "Jazz thinks it funny my horns are too far forward and for looking only, and not for using, like yours. Says Kaonites and Pol-y-hex-ians have same horns."

"I know! I know!" Smokscreen jumped up and waved his hand in the air. "It's 'cause you're half like me and we got some strong coding!"

"That's true," Sideswipe answered, playfully flicking Powl's nose and relieved that someone at the orncare was clearly making sure Smokescreen didn't use his creators' bad words. "Your Kaonite frame coding just hasn't come out yet."

"What if it doesn't?" Prowl asked, biting his lip.

"Doesn't matter because you're still our sparkling." He gave Prowl a helm kiss and earned a funny pair of doorwing twitches.

"Yeah," Jazz agreed. "You gotta roll with what you got and not worry." He tapped his visor. "Energon snack time?" He asked the group.

The group cheered and the sparklings dashed off to their cubby holes for their cold packs. Sideswipe still had Prowl's so he unsubspaced the bag and handed it to Prowl. "I should go, Prowl. I think you've got the story well enough for now. What type of quadrapedal did we see in that car?"

"A dog - no, cat. Cat!"

Jazz, who didn't need to run to get his energon, poked Prowl's shoulder. "A dog doesn't look like a cat, silly." The munchkin winked his visor at Sideswipe, although a little awkwardly as he was still getting used to using a visor as means of facial expressions and gestures. "I got this, sir."

Sideswipe was doubly relieved. Relieved for Prowl finding a friend instead of just a few friendly sparklings, and for the youngling to help cover his aft with Sunstreaker. "I bet you do. I bet you also like Polyhexian energon goodies. Do you get them here?"

"Yes, sir! My creator makes some yummy ones, and my sire makes some super yummy other ones."

"Ever had Kaonite energon goodies?"

He scrunched his face. "I don't like Prowl's energon treats."

Sideswipe laughed. "Neither do I. If your creators let you visit others, I can pick you up some orn and you can try Kaonite goodies. Far less acidic than what Prowl eats."

"I'll ask. Maybe in a couple of orns, yeah?"

"Yeah, that'll work. See you both later." He hugged Prowl goodbye despite the protests that only newsparks need hugs for short goodbyes.

Sideswipe left and transformed before the evil grin threatening to split his face could win. He checked his tracker and saw it in motion. Good, the jerk hadn't found it yet.

Sideswipe caught up quickly and trailed the mech until he found an excellent opportunity. Smokescreen's creators were obviously richer than he realized when he found they had private designated transforming spots by their busy office. Even better, there was a bar with a great view of the designated spots.

He went to the hardware store first. He waited until one of the two spots next to the sire's spot was used. Once one was and the mech disappeared inside, Sideswipe pulled up like he owned it as well. After transforming he bent down as if finding rocks inside his peds. Digging around as if pulling them out, he leaned into the sire's spot and started secretly dropping glue pellets. They would stick to rubber tires and as soon as they heated, they'd spread to the brakes and absolutely ruin the tire and brake sets.

One glue pellet had a small, durable datachip attached to be found during the medical investigation. In it read a note reminding him that it's not nice to call mechs and sparklings mean words, and next time there'd be road-repair-strength glue if he was caught doing it again. The note ended with another "friendly" reminder that Iacon's second-top Enforcer for all precincts in the city-region, as well as several of the city's orncare system's board members, were non-pure frame types.

He waited for a group of mechs to hide in the crowd as he walked to the bar, not knowing if the sire or carrier had window views. As much as he wanted to sign his name he knew he wouldn't be the one to suffer the consequences. He sat down and watched out of his peripheral vision to keep a low profile, waiting for movement so he could refocus and gleefully watch his handy work begin its destruction.

No one said parenting meant _always_ being nice. Well, someone probably did but Sideswipe pretended they didn't exist.

After several high-grade drinks came and went through his system the sire finally went to his private spot and transformed. He was going Sideswipe's way back to the orncare. Excellent.

Sideswipe followed by several cars behind and when they got to an interchange the mech was suddenly flung forward, flipping in midair and crashing into a lightpole.

Sideswipe started laughing hysterically, it bleeding into the bond.

~What did you do now?~ Sunstreaker demanded.

Curiosity joined from Prowl's end.

~Nothing. Just super eager to see our Prowl, that's all. It's been a pretty good orn.~

 _Curious-happy_ broadcasted on one little mech's end. Later when Sideswipe picked up Prowl he saw one of the caretakers talking to Smokescreen.

"Something going on with Smokescreen?"

Prowl flicked his doorwings while he played with his puzzle again. "Sire had delay, so carrier has to pick him up. Smokescreen has to stay late."

Oh well. A little less time with creators like that and more time with caretakers like these would do the sparkling good. Or so Sideswipe insisted on believing.

When they got home he gave Prowl another sippy cup and put him in his room to play. He used the controls to close the door most of the way and checked in with his brother. They couldn't use the bond to communicate without Prowl overhearing, and what he had to say he didn't want Prowl to know, but they did have comms. ::Where you at? I got a story to tell you.::

::What kind of story?::

::The kind that involves a drink of good high-grade and gleeful story telling. And not the kind of story you'll ever find in a sparkling's book.::

A short pause. ::I'm in the lobby. I was just grabbing more art supplies and a datafile on Praxian doorwing speech.::

::Good. I'll pour some of your high-grade for us.::

::Hey, let go of _my_ high-grade.::

::Can't drink mine. Prowl's still up and does mine ever have a kick to it. If you don't want me to drink, you better get here fast. I'm about to pour...:: he teased.

Sunstreaker didn't make it fast enough. "Damn it," he cursed when he saw Sideswipe walking to the far couch with two glasses. He grabbed his and sat on the chair opposite of his brother, who laid spread out on the whole couch. "So this got to do with what you were laughing about earlier?"

"Oh yeah. It's an epic journey of retribution deliverance."

"I seriously doubt you can have an epic journey in the time it takes for Prowl to get through orncare. And that's assuming you didn't go into work."

"I didn't, and three-quarters of orncare. I spent the first quarter with him, reading to him about the different cultures. Met a youngling from Polyhex that I think would be good for Prowl to spend more time around."

"Finally. I had a count of less than five, and none of them seemed close enough to Prowl to make sense scheduling a play-date. What about all your meetings?"

"Scheduled for tomorrow. You'll need to take Prowl in, and when I tell you why, I bet you'll agree. Epic journey or not, it's still worth it." Thus began Sideswipe's recounting in exaggerated and grandiose fashions.

At the end he put his peds up on the arm of their couch, sniggering to himself. "I bet none of his friends are going to be calling our sparkling something like that again."

"They might all pull their Praxian sparklings out of the orncare," Sunstreaker pointed out, but his smug smile said it wasn't really something he cared too much about.

"No they won't. With their attitudes, they would've already done so if they could have, and gone somewhere more prestigious. Not that I care, but I guess the caretakers are doing a good job of keeping such judginess out of the sparkling's learned behavior."

 _"Click click."_ They heard rudimentary clicking noises, from a third and much tinier vocalizer.

The twins jerked upright and saw Prowl standing against a chair, in the space between the living room and his berthroom. Prowl was frowning as deeply as his faceplates allowed. "Bad creator," he scolded, flapping his doorwings down as hard as he could.

The twins looked at each other, not sure what to say or do. Prowl knew what he wanted to do, though. Using the furniture and wall he walked back to his berthroom. Standing inside the room, with the door mostly closed and the door frame taking most of his weight, Prowl added, "Mean Creator Sides. Bad Creator Sunstreaker. Creator Sunstreaker should punish Creator Sides." He used the secondary and lowered open/close toggle switch to close the door.

Sideswipe laughed incredulously. "Did I just get scolded?"

Sunstreaker scoffed. "Are we getting punished for you being bad and me not doing something about it? By him _locking himself_ in his room?"

"You mean pretend confining himself to his room. He can't even reach the lock controls, and especially not now since his balance basically fell off the sidewalk."

When Sideswipe stopped talking they realized they were hearing the sounds of a chair sliding across the floor from inside Prowl's room. Sunstreaker mumbled, "What the Pit...?"

The chair stopped sliding when they heard a tap against the door. At the same time they realized what was happening. They jumped up and dashed across the room but didn't make it before there was a tiny door lock click.

Sunstreaker tried using the controls to open the door. It wouldn't budge. "Prowl let us in right now!"

"No."

Sideswipe banged on the door. "Now, Prowl."

"No. Not until Creator Sides is sorry."

Sideswipe collapsed standing against the door and growled in frustration. "I spend all this time trying to get him to talk more, and this is how I'm rewarded when he finally speaks freely on his own accord?"

Sunstreaker shared his frustrated growl. "What's the override lock code?"

Sideswipe responded with a dirty look. "I don't know. That was your responsibility."

"No, it was yours. Remember? I lower the bookshelf, you set the override code?"

"No, it was I put in the oversized berth and you set the override code. Wait, that means... Oh no..."

Sunstreaker tried overriding without a code. It didn't work. He punched Sideswipe's shoulder. ::I swear the first thing we're doing after he gets out is taping off the lock, and then the first thing _you're_ doing after he goes to recharge is setting ALL the override codes.::

::How was I supposed to know he'd do this? It's not like we lock him in his room. How'd he even get this idea? Are we sure he's our sparkling? Because we were little Pit demons that broke any locks some adult tried slapping on us, and he's actually voluntarily locking himself in.::

::And as a form of punishment against you being a Pit demon. I don't know where he gets it from. Tomorrow I'll ask the orncare if they know. Now tell him you're sorry.::

::But I'm not sorry. I'm actually quite proud of me.::

::Are you really going to have an argument with a sparkling over ethics and deserved retribution?::

Sideswipe huffed and rolled his forehelm against the door in muted irritation. "I'm sorry sweet Prowler that I wasn't nice. Forgive me?"

"No. Not ready. Bad sparklings get punished. Creator Sides bad, so Creator Sides gets punished."

"But we don't really punish you when you're bad," the red twin moaned. "Ever. Plus I'm not a sparkling."

"Prowl, what kind of punishment are you thinking?" the other twin asked.

"Creator Sides gets a timeout. Like when the other sparklings are mean, they get timeouts."

"How about Sides goes to recharge early?"

Sideswipe shot him a shocked and angry look, wide glaring optics and slack jaw.

"Okay."

"He'll go to recharge early if you unlock this door and come out."

::Like Pit I will! I'm the adult here, not him.::

::He's going to recharge in less than a joor. Just stay in our room until I tell you to come out.::

The door lock was released and they heard tiny peds scramble down to slide the chair back. The door opened slightly enough for a sparkling's optic to see through the crack. "Creator Sides to room now, first."

They could've forced the door to open without hurting Prowl, but doing so would break the sparkling's trust in their promises. Playing along, Sunstreaker looked at his twin and gave a smug shrug-smile combo. "You heard the little mech. Go to your room."

Sideswipe growled across the commlink. ::Getting sent to recharge early by my own sparkling,:: he angrily grumbled even as he went into their shared berthroom and dropped down on his half of the berth.

He crossed arms. ::Just you watch; you're helping set precedent for him to keep doing this. _Him_ , punishing _us_. The audacity. The absurdity!::

Tiny ped steps and scrapping sounds from outside his open door caught his attention. Sunstreaker didn't answer since Prowl left his room and partly crawled to follow Sideswipe. The sparkling used the doorframe to climb until he stood.

"Bad Creator Sides." With one last disapproving look, Prowl used the lowered open/close toggle switch and closed Sideswipe's door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shamelessly stolen bit from IDW's "Dark Cybertron": Prowl calls Ravage a dog and replies with "whatever" when corrected.
> 
> I also shamelessly stole the green thing from a toddler.
> 
> BTW, if you got fun sparkling ideas, or twists on the "Prowl has sparkling twins" ideas, feel free to mention them. I'm thinking this will be treated more like a snapshots fic instead of continuous, but I'm not sure.


	3. Sleepover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mega-orn = Cybertron equivalent of a month.  
> Fuelies = Foodies  
> Sleepover is still “sleepover.” “Recharge-over” is a really annoying mouthful.
> 
> Sticker idea inspired by Rizobact’s [“Sticking Together" fic, here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7454665)
> 
> Certain muses demanded I try to FLUFF MAXIMIZE this chapter (even though none of the muses are Maximals). Said muses then just kinda ran with that idea… Like 17 pages just ran with it.

Sunstreaker pulled up to the orncare trying not to match or project his brother’s giddy attitude. Sideswipe wanted to pick up the two youths but Sunstreaker force the eager and mischievous creator to stay home. They were trying very hard to keep their side of the bond calm for Prowl, but that was quite the endurance exercise in an attempt at shared bond blocking without their sparkling feeling said block. They didn’t know if it had any effectiveness, but hopefully it was like a soft block, one almost made from spongy materials they hoped would absorb their emotions and thoughts before it reached Prowl.

When he pulled up Prowl didn’t wait for him and came semi-speed-walking as fast as he could out the door and across the flat entryway, doing his best to keep his balance. His doorwings were finally no longer outgrowing everything and forcing them to consider an early or partial upgrade, but now his peds were starting to grow a little faster than everything else.

The universe did not want Prowl to make it to his next upgrade in normal proportions. Luckily his next upgrade was tentatively scheduled in 3 mega-orns and the peds weren’t currently growing so fast to force them to move the appointment up. Still, running was out of the question until he got used to picking his peds up higher.

Prowl climbed inside and strapped himself down quickly, and for once set his puzzle off to the side. “That way,” he pointed, smooshing his finger against Sunstreaker’s side window. Doorwings were dramatically twitching in either excitement or anxiety.

“I know,” he soothed with an invisible grin. “Jazz’s creators gave us the doctor’s address and recommended parking location.”

Prowl bounced in his seat. “Okay, then why we still here? Go, go, go!”

~Sideswipe, I think our block idea failed.~

~Why?~

~Prowl’s practically dancing in his seat to go now and pick up Jazz.~

~Then what are you doing wasting time talking to me? Go, go, go!~

For almost two mega-orns Jazz had been spending a few joors one orn every deca-orn at the twins’ place. When the twins were certain that Prowl finally had a real friend and not just a play-date mate, they asked his creators if it was alright to host a sleepover. They said ‘yes’ and now Prowl was about to have his first sleepover. Sideswipe tried going over the top planning out every detail but then Sunstreaker was quickly swept up in the wake of his energy. They argued on who got to plan what, followed by what made sense for a sparkling’s sleepover with a youngling.

Sunstreaker easily made his way the short distance to the doctor’s office back parking lot. Jazz and his sire, Stepper, were already waiting on them. Stepper had a bag the size of Jazz hiked up on his shoulder. Earlier Stepper confided in the twins that this was Jazz’s first sleepover since his injury. Clearly they were anxious if that bag’s size was ever a tell.

Jazz ran up and almost jumped into Sunstreaker before stopping short, remember his sire still had his spare youngling seat. Stepper smiled and installed the quick-connect seat for Jazz to climb inside. He placed the bag across Jazz’s and Prowl’s laps despite it being so large it almost blocked their faces from Sunstreaker’s internal view.

“Good luck,” Stepper wished, with that thick Polyhexian accent that they now knew well. “We packed everything we thought Jazz might need.” He added privately to Sunstreaker, ::We included his recharge stand and protector for his visor, the backup visor, and his nighttime visor. There’s also instructions on how to remove the normal visor if he falls into recharge wearing it.::

::His permanent visor wasn’t installed?:: he asked, moderately alarmed. Two orns ago Jazz’s permanent visor was supposed to be installed, and hence the timing.

::No, doc says his repair systems are still trying to fix his optical systems. The nanites are slowing down their repair attempts, but they haven’t stopped as soon as the doc thought. It’s best if we don’t try installed a permanent visor until his optics are as good as his repair systems can do.::

Sunstreaker checked the sparkling and youngling, noting they were eagerly chatting about their orn since separating while ignoring the adults. ::We can trust Jazz to handle his visor change without supervision?::

::So long as he doesn’t fall into recharge with it he’s able to do the recharge and onlining routines by himself. You should still have someone with him, just in case,:: he immediately urged.

::Of course.::

“Jazz,” Stepper called. “See you after orncare tomorrow, okay?” He gave Jazz’s hand a squeeze, a hug not possible with that bag in the way.

“’Kay. Love you. Bye.”

Sunstreaker pulled away first. “Prowl, did Sideswipe tell you what we’re doing first?”

“No.”

“You’re both going to help him make Kaonite and Polyhexian energon goodies, and then while they cook we’re all going to try some arts and crafts.” Sunstreaker hadn’t meant to rush past the goodies, but he finally had a chance to get Prowl to stick to the finger paints instead of ignoring them for his puzzle.

“I can’t make things,” Prowl protested. “Creator Sides says I can’t yet mix ingredients right.”

“I can,” Jazz announced. “We’ll do it together. Sunstreaker, is that why my creators packed recipes?”

“Probably. We told them our plans three orns ago. How many did they pack?”

“They packed two filled datapads. They said one for you, one for me.”

‘ _Geez_.’ He knew why they packed two, since Jazz always zoomed on the pictures when the two youths watched Sideswipe cook. They filled the datapads, though? The twins didn’t buy that diverse of an ingredients list.

Jazz added, “They also packed all my favorite ingredients.”

“Isn’t that over 50 ingredients?” The bag’s size was starting to make a lot of sense.

“Only 53. Sire’s is 127. Carrier’s is 85.”

“That’s too much to be a favorite’s list,” Sunstreaker argued with a short chortle, fully meant it as teasing despite the truth.

“They call themselves ‘Fuelies’ and Fuelies like lots of ingredient choices.”

“They most certainly do.” Sideswipe would never call himself that, but Sunstreaker was borderline certain he should be classified as one anyways. They were planning on apartment searching after costs for Prowl’s upgrade were paid. Besides a requirement being that the twins no longer share a berthroom, Sideswipe insisted they have a full kitchen. For one, he could finally make high-grade. He had an ever-growing list of ideas he wanted to try.

Prowl asked, “Is Creator Sides a Fuelie?”

“I wouldn’t call him that to his face. He disagrees. I think he is.”

“Why?”

“Sideswipe hates labels.”

“What are labels?”

“Ah…” Sunstreaker mentally whacked himself on the helm for that slip. “Boring words assigned by adults for abstract representation. Jazz, ever done finger painting?”

Jazz kicked his peds excitedly. “Yup, but not for a while. Creators said I had to stop for now. We’re doing finger paints after making goodies?”

“That’s our plan. Why’d you have to stop?”

“Yay, painting! I kept touching my visor and finger paints don’t easily come off the visor specialty glass. I promise I’ll do better!”

Sunstreaker was pained both as a creator and as an artist by the reason. “I’ll get you some disposable youngling gloves while you make energon goodies with Sideswipe. Then you can toss them whenever you want to touch your visor. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds good. Do you think I could take them home if I don’t use them all?”

“I’ll buy you two packs.”

“Yay!” Even happier ped kicks responded to that answer.

Sunstreaker comm’ed his brother. ::Need you to come down to the lobby in a half-breem. I have to drive to the crafts store while you make those treats.::

::Why? What happened?:: the red twin immediately broadcasted concern but almost as quickly calmed down when he felt Prowl pushing the bond curiously.

::Jazz just needs some disposable gloves. Nothing for you to have a pump- or spark- attack or stalled engine over. I’ll be back before you have anything in the oven.::

Sideswipe got to the lobby early, giving himself a chance to calm down and behave like a chill creator, and not one overly eager to have their shy sparkling socializing. A shy sparkling finally using words regularly. He still did his doorwing talk in tandem with his spoken words, but at least he did both instead of just the one.

“Hey ya, guys!” he greeted when Sunstreaker pulled up and immediately opened the door.

“Grab the bag first.” Sunstreaker brought the object to his attention.

Sideswipe hauled it out carefully, mindful of the half-squished sparklings. “Whoa. Jazz, did you pack a sibling in here?”

Jazz giggled. “No, but my creators practically packed my whole room and half the kitchen.”

::Seriously?::

::So I’m told.::

The youths excited out the same side, away from the street. Prowl almost tripped over his peds at the curb but Jazz grabbed his hand. “Silly Prowler,” he playfully admonished. Since spending time with the family he called him “Prowler” more and more. “You need me to walk you up the stairs?”

“No, I’m no newspark!” he protested. He tugged his hand but Jazz didn’t let go.

“Nope, you’re not, but I’m your friend and I’m not gonna let you trip over your giant peds again.” Jazz tugged back, this time stepping forward and leading the way. Prowl huffed and followed, still insisting that he wasn’t a newspark but he would follow along – for Jazz’s sake, and Jazz’s sake _only_.

Sideswipe popped out the mobile seat. Although it folded down during a transformation sequence like a normal seat, there wasn’t any reason for Sunstreaker to keep it while he was here. “Don’t dawdle or I’m switching your activity out with my next activity.”

::I thought we agreed on not teaching Prowl and Jazz the fun of pranking.::

“No, we agreed I wouldn’t do anything they could do at the orncare and possibly get caught.”

::I still think you’ll fail with Prowl and just get sent to our room again, and I have no idea what Jazz will do with it. Now get before those sparklings make their way too far up the stairs.::

“I’m going, I’m going.” Sideswipe subspaced the bag and seat, followed by lazily jogging until he met up with the youths on the first landing. Prowl was walking slowly, bordering on crawling for every step up. “Prowl, want me to carry you?”

“No!” Prowl huffed. “ _Seriously_ ,” he stressed with puffed out cheeks, “I’m not a newspark.”

Sideswipe grinned. “What if I carry both of you? Jazz isn’t a newspark, right?” He added a wink to Jazz, standing over Prowl so that the offended sparkling couldn’t see.

“Sure,” Jazz answered. “Then we can play sooner, ‘cause Sides has longer strides. Maybe Sides can jump two steps at a time? That could be a fun ride!”

“You just might be killing me, little mech, but let’s give it a shot.” He swooped them up, rearranging them to both sit as comfortably on his hips as his armor allowed. Good thing the armor doubling as youth seats had a bit of a curve.

Prowl automatically hiked his legs and knees to strengthen his grip on Sideswipe’s torso while Jazz’s legs just dangled. “Let’s go.” He squeezed them tight, slightly worried about dropping them, and dashed up the stairs two steps at a time. When he made it with only mildly losing his grip on Jazz, he stopped and rearranged them again to finish walking to their door.

First he set down Jazz but then he walked Prowl over to the kitchenette before letting him down. “Prowl, why don’t you start showing Jazz what I’ve laid out that he hasn’t seen before? I’ll put his bag in your room.”

“Don’t forget the ingredients!” Jazz stopped him.

“Say what now?”

“I told you my creators packed part of the kitchen.”

“Oh right,” he sighed. He unsubspaced the bag and dropped it down. “Okay, new plan: let’s pull all fuel-related things out, and then do my plan. What’s this?” He pulled out a small packet. “Is this really gold leaf topping with silver sprinkles?”

“Uh huh.”

“That’s awesome. I love a good tasty décor top.”

Prowl grinned and gave an upbeat flicker with his doorwings. “I know.”

“Hush. No sassing your creators,” he teased and rubbed the top of Prowl’s helm. The sparkling snaked his helm out and gave Sideswipe a glare. Ever since scheduling his upgrade the sparkling kept harping more and more that he wasn’t a newspark. “Let’s start pulling this stuff out.”

After pulling out 96 packets, because most of the 53 ingredients were doubled, Sideswipe put the bag away while the youths worked on stacking Jazz’s ingredient packets. He came back and peered over them to see their progress. Prowl was standing on the tips of his peds and pushing the bags closer to Jazz with his outstretched fingers, and Jazz was placing them in groupings. “Wow, you two are fast. How are you arranging them?”

“By purpose. Prowl said you like decorating tasty tops, so I put those ingredients there.” He pointed to a pile on the side. “Here’s the copper mixtures, and here’s the flavored anti-oxidants, and here’s…” Jazz went on and at one point Sideswipe had to actively fight drooling. He was so going to be making them specialty energon and snacks for tomorrow. He didn’t care how much of it would be leftovers all the way until the very last orn before expiring. There was just so many options but the oven was so small.

“Jazz, do you want us to work together and make the first batch of Polyhexian treats? Then we can work together and do the first Kaonite batch.”

“Sure.”

“What can I do?” Prowl pouted, crossing his arms and dropping his doorwings. “I can’t make things.”

“We’ll start you off with stirring the dry ingredients until they’re mixed. How’s that sound?”

Shoulder and doorwing shrugs.

“Sounds good, then.” He put Prowl in his highchair, the sparkling having deca-orns ago being forced to accept that he’d just have to sit in the chair while Jazz was around. Sunstreaker was going to surprise the sparkling by letting him have a chair to set in like a youngling (with tons of padding and tucked into a wall corner), but Sideswipe wasn’t risking any spills.

Giving Prowl an oversized mixing bowl and several pre-measured packets, the trio got to work. Jazz sometimes used the closest chair to Prowl to show him pictures of what well-mixed dry ingredients looked like in a bowl. Prowl got it down well enough to graduate to mixing thinned liquids.

By the time Sideswipe started teaching Jazz how to decorate tops, and to get Prowl to hold a tube well enough to not drop it on his practice treat, Sunstreaker was back. “How’s it going?”

“Look, Creator Sunstreaker. I’m decorating!”

Sunstreaker looked at a treat he kind of assumed was meant to resemble someone in the family’s face. That was a lot of assuming, even with relinquishing any final determinations on that flat image having undersized head fins, oversized audial horns, or a very pointy chevron. “It’s lovely, Prowler.” He added a helm kiss and received doorwing flutters. “I need to make a few mods to what I bought, so I’m going to sit down at the table.”

“Alright, have fun doing more work while we have actual fun,” Sideswipe replied, his voice a little louder that the youth’s chorus of “okay.”

Sunstreaker let them continue as he finished preparing the art area, which earlier he’d put on the round table they usually used for drinking games. A plastic cover blanketed the top, underneath finger paints and blank paper. Two chairs modified for youths were sandwiched between adult chairs, with Sunstreaker’s a little awkwardly placed since they were putting Prowl as close to the padded wall corner as possible, in case of falling.

“We’re done!” Sideswipe announced. “I’ll put these two trays in the oven while you bitlets go start painting with Sunstreaker.”

Sunstreaker waited for the two youths to clean up. Jazz cleaned up first since he was less finicky. “Prowl, look! You got a real chair.”

“Really?” The sparkling put down the facewipes and popped the highchair’s top. He started sliding down but struggled on not catching his doorwings.

He caught Sideswipe’s attention. The red creator released the tray barely in his grasp. “Hey, hey! Stop that,” he ordered over Sunstreaker’s similar reprimand. Sideswipe scooped up Prowl and put him on the floor.

Sunstreaker helped them both into their chairs, wishing he thought of straps for Prowl. The sparkling’s eagerness to be in a chair was making his creator protocols twitchy.  “Jazz, here you go,” He pushed two packs to the youngling. “I got a third pack of gloves and I’ll put it in your bag. I found some clear filament to go over your visor so you don’t have to worry about absently scratching or something. I opened it and cut them closer to your visor’s shape and size.” He did not want art to become a negative associate.

The youngling beamed. “That’s good. I was worried I might still forget. How does it go on or come off?”

Prowl watched as Sunstreaker pulled out a pair of gloves and a cut filament. Sunstreaker explained, “I pull off the backing and wrap it around your visor. Some of it will go on your helm, but that’s probably good.”

“But how will I pull it off it’s one of those tight wrap filaments?”

“I have an idea!” Prowl bounced on his cushion. “Use my stickers. They got this thick texture and they’re safe to wear. Use them on the edges of the phil-a-meant and you can pull the phil-a-meant off. Let’s go pick them out.”

“Filament. Okay.” Jazz jumped down off his chair while Prowl carefully wiggled off.

When the pair started digging for stickers in Prowl’s room Sideswipe joined Sunstreaker at the table. Sunstreaker smirked. “It comes off easy, but I guess anything to help Prowl make and keep friends.”

“He’s finally using the stickers we got him. Granted it was to play temporary decals with the others, but it’s finally something.” Sideswipe loudly called, “Hey, Prowl. Why don’t you bring all your stickers out? You can play temporary decals with Jazz while the paints dry.”

Jazz yelled, “That sounds fun! Let’s do that.”

The pair reemerged, each carrying five sheets of stickers and handed them to the twins while they retook their seats. Jazz reached out to one of the sheets, “I want that one.”

Sunstreaker handed him the sheet and Jazz pointed to two big-eyed, plump turbofox stickers. “I want them.”

“Alright. Hold still.” Sunstreaker carefully wrapped Jazz’s visor and put the stickers on each end, just beyond the visor side hookup points.

Jazz turned to Prowl. “How does it look?”

“Like you’re a silly youngling.”

“I am silly.” Jazz pulled off a sticker of a yellow star and stuck it center of Prowl’s small chevrons. “Now you look silly, too.”

Sideswipe laughed. “Jazz looks like he’s down to Cybertron and Prowl looks like his helm is up in the stars.”

Prowl tapped the star, trying to get a feel for its raised surface about how it sat. “Stars are funny. Creator Sunstreaker says they’re art but they make shapes like puzzles.”

Sunstreaker pushed some finger paints to Prowl. “Want to paint some star puzzles?” Of all the times Prowl didn’t want to put down his puzzle to paint he didn’t know why he didn’t try that idea.

“Yeah.”

Jazz put on the gloves. “I’m going to paint turbofoxes being sneaky.”

“Why being sneaky?”

The youngling gave him a positively devious smile neither twin had never seen before. “Sneaky things are fun things.”

Sideswipe grinned as deviously back. “I agree.”

Sunstreaker’s expression twitched as a few memories replayed. He gave the youths blank papers. To Jazz he added about the filament, “Let me know if you prefer the gloves or the filament. If there’s any spare filaments, you can take them with you.”

“Kay. I think I might like the gloves because they come off easy.” He dipped his fingers into the turobfox-grey paint. Prowl waited for Jazz to start and then dipped his fingers into yellow paint.

Jazz started painting a turobox but before he finished the body he declared grey boring and decided to make it bright blue. With some prodding he convinced Prowl to paint stars different colors, like pink, green, and purple. Sunstreaker helped them figure out how to make their pictures, even pulling up a holographic model of a turbofox and putting it in the “sneaky positions” Jazz wanted. Mostly that was crouching.

By the time the oven buzzer went off all four were messy with finger paints, Sideswipe having joined to make his own poor depictions of sneaky flying critters. Sideswipe wiped his hands clean. "You stay here and keep playing, and I'll check. I don't want you accidently burning yourselves."

Jazz pulled himself further up on the table and looked over Sideswipe's picture. "Why are your sneaky animals in the air?"

Sunstreaker answered for the twin in the middle of fetching his mitts. "Because Sideswipe likes things that fly. Perhaps a little too much for a ground-model mech. I think it's because his sanity is up in the air and he's trying to catch it."

Both youths giggled. Jazz tried covering up his laughter because he wasn't sure if it was polite, and in doing so he got his mouth and nose painted green and lilac. "Oh no," Jazz frowned. "Can I please be excused to the washrack?"

"Why?" Prowl asked.

"Because these rags here might push the paint on my nose under my visor. That’s no fun to clean and you can't eat with paint on your face. What if it falls and lands in my energon goodie?"

Prowl frowned thoughtfully before slowly poking Jazz in the nose.

"Ow." The youngling swatted away the hand of the sparkling.

Prowl looked at his finger tip, now sporting a little lilac. He rubbed his fingertips and suddenly had an idea. "I know how you can keep painting instead of having to fully wash, and not have your nose drip."

He hopped most of his torso onto the table, almost pulling the cover sheet and all of its contents down. Sunstreaker caught it and was halfway into scolding Prowl but the sparkling ignored him to reach across for a sticker sheet.

Prowl pulled off a sticker of a musical bar and wrapped it around Jazz's nose, aligning it with the painting splotches. "There. Now it can't drip."

"I can't be the only one with a sticker on his face." Jazz pulled the sheet and looked through the options. "This one!" He pried off a bright pink glowing spark, complete with glitter. He stuck it on Prowl's cheek. "Can I put stickers on your doorwings? Please?"

"Only if I get to put stickers on your oudil horns."

The visor-wearing youngling snickered. "It's 'audial' horns. If you make them match good, I'll wear them to orncare. Will you wear yours? We can bring these stickers to the orncare center and play temporary decals with everyone. Is that okay?"

Prowl bit his bottom lip. "Do you promise to pick out nice stickers for me?"

"Of course, silly Prowler."

"Okay." Prowl looked at Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, both watching the exchange. Sideswipe was absently waving the steam from the cooked energon. "Can I - "

"Yes!" Sideswipe accidently cut off. "I mean, yes, you can bring all the stickers to orncare tomorrow. If you want, we can even swing by the store before and get you more stickers to play with the other sparklings."

::Smooth.::

::Shut up. You would've done the same. Probably worse, since I am the smoother twin.::

::You're as smooth as half-dried paint trying to be blended.::

As the youths played with figuring out their sticker options, Sideswipe carefully moved five of each youth's preferred confetti to two separate plates. He added a third plate with a random assortments. Cautiously balancing all three he walked to the table and set them down on the table just as Jazz was asking Prowl to show him a doorwing.

“Since you look so Praxian you should have crystal wings.”

“Then since you look so Polyhexian you should have musical audial horns. I get to put on stickers next before you get to do my next doorwings.”

“Of course I look Polyhexian. Both of my creators are Polyhexian.”

“Check it out, you two,” Sideswipe gently interrupted the two while Sunstreaker covered the paints. “Got you each a plate of your favs, and a mystery plate for the middle. Dare you each to try at least one mystery.”

Jazz answered while lining Prowl’s small doorwing edges with multi-colored crystal stickers. “But what if it’s too acidic? Prowl’s goodies are kinda icky.”

“Yours are kinda icky,” the sparkling countered. “They taste like morning after-shower hugs.”

“What’s _that_ taste like?”

The twins stared at one another before Sideswipe burst out cackling when it clicked. “He’s talking about your fancy solvent rinses! Hah! I told you they smelled too strong.”

Sunstreaker huffed. “He just has sensitive olfactories and you make this whole place smell like an energon confections shop on your orns off. My rinses are from artesian districts in the aroma’s neighborhood. They aren’t from the Fuelie neighborhood so they don’t taste like anything edible,” He defended.

Prowl elaborated, “You both smell like it when we have family morning energon. When Creator Sides makes us special morning energon, after Creator Sunstreaker showers.”

Sideswipe glanced at his brother and shrugged. “Solves that, then. Who’s ready to try my mystery treats? Sunstreaker, you’re in on this, too. No whining in front of the little mechs.”

Between the four of them they managed to finish over half of the cumulative energon treats while Jazz decorated all of Prowl’s doorwing edges before running out of crystal stickers, and Prowl covered Jazz’s horns in musical notes on one and instruments on the other. Sideswipe wrapped up all remaining goodies while Sunstreaker very carefully removed the two temporary decal stickers off the youths’ faces.

When he finished, and pulled the cover off of Jazz’s visor, he looked the youths over. “You both need a trip through the washracks. Even you Prowl have some finger paint on you.”

“Where?!” The sparkling tried finding the mess on himself.

“Where you scratched the sticker on your chevron, and a few other places on your helm.”

“Sunstreaker,” Jazz asked, “can you please put the turbofox stickers back? I kind of liked them. I think they make my visor area look pretty.”

He did as asked, pushing slightly firmer at the spots of slight adhesive loss. “How about Jazz goes through the washrack first?”

“Prowler can’t come with me?” Jazz pouted.

“Maybe,” the sparkling asked before his creators could explain. “Jazz, you have any special washes?”

“Yeah. I’ll get them.” The youngling scrambled off to the bag tossed in Prowl’s room.

“Psst,” the sparkling whispered to his creators. They leaned in to hear their sparkling’s secret plan. “Can I please wash like a youngling instead of a sparkling?”

Sunstreaker frowned. “You’ll trip over your peds on the wet floor.”

“No I won’t! I promise.”

Sideswipe supplied, ::If he showers with Jazz he won’t fall far. Jazz has really good balance. It’s not like Jazz wouldn’t kind of expect it.::

::Ugh, okay. But they have to leave the door open and you have to stay close by in case he does fall.::

::Sure, I’ll try becoming one with the door frame like a nervous creator.:: Out loud the red creator agreed for the sparkling to hear. “You can Prowl, but only because you promise to be extra careful. And you must leave the washrack door open.”

Happy doorwing flutters answered and Prowl pushed himself out of the chair. “Jazz, the washracks are out here,” he called as he stepped carefully over to the washrack door, doorwings with an extra bounce.

The youths left the door opened as Prowl promised, and Sideswipe crouched down by the doorframe, leaning against it so that he wasn’t visible from the washrack.

Sunstreaker began clean up at the table, pausing when he saw a built-in drink container. He muttered, “Want a small drink right now. Sparkling’s about to helm-splat into the shower floor.”

Sideswipe overheard and loudly whispered, “Ooh, yeah! Get me a glass, too.”

“This is such bad parenting.” He went to get it anyways.

Staying in place, Sideswipe comm’ed, ::I’m hugging a doorframe like it’s my lover just in case something happens to our funny-shapen sparkling. I think we’re doing enough good parenting to counter a little drinking.::

Inside the washrack Jazz changed the settings until he and Prowl could agree on a temperature. He got under the solvent first and then reached out his hands. “Take my hands.”

Prowl stepped slowly until he tentatively gripped Jazz’s fingers. Relieved at his first requested youngling activity going okay, he took a bigger step underneath the solvent… only to slip.

Jazz figured it’d happen sooner rather than later, and pulled himself backwards to counter the fall. Prowl scrambled until he got his peds safely under him again, Jazz giggling the whole time. “You’re doomed to never walk right.”

“Not when I get my upgrade. You’ll see; I’ll be like a normal youngling.”

Jazz started using his wash cloth in one hand to clean his nose and mouth where the facewipes didn’t clean. He squeezed Prowl’s hand but the sparkling stood there, looking up at the spout suddenly much further away than normal. What do younglings do when their creators don’t wash them? His face was clean.

“Don’t forget your chevron,” Jazz reminded him. He handed Prowl his wash cloth. “So do they think your upgrade is going have to be a full Praxian?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Prowl tried getting the paint but he only had the feel of a sticker to base his attempts.

“Let me.” Jazz took away the wash cloth and used it with one hand to wash Prowl’s chevron.

“Ow, careful! It’s sensitive.”

“Sorry.” Jazz offered a soft hug to the easily-tripped sparkling. “I’ll treat it like my audial horns, okay?”

The two washed each other’s hard-to-reach spots, careful to keep Prowl standing still until Jazz shut off the spray. Jazz asked, “Where’s the dry controls?”

“There,” Prowl pointed to the pre-set controls underneath the solvent dials. “I think it’s the second button for normal dry.”

Jazz pushed the button and immediately hot dry air meant for the body size of a creator and a sparkling blew from the wall sharing the solvent head. Jazz wasn’t expecting the blast and got it under his visor, on his optics. “Ack!” He let go of Prowl and stumbled back.

Prowl managed to slide only slightly when he stepped forward and fanned his doorwings to block the air from Jazz’s face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, rubbing below his optics. “They just sometimes hurt still.”

“Do you want one of my creators to turn down the settings? That way you don’t have to get near the air.”

“Okay.”

“Creators!” Prowl yelled, sending pulses of _please-come_ and _urgent-but-I-didn_ _’t-fall! a_ cross the bond.

Sideswipe had already jumped up when he heard Jazz cry out and poked his helm inside. Neither youth saw him until Prowl called for him. “I’m here. What’s up?”

“The dry setting is too high.”

“Oh, yeah. We don’t have a setting for two small mechs.” He manually overrode it and stayed with them until everyone was dry. “Well, now that we have fed and clean little mechs, how about more play time until recharge time?”

Prowl asked, “Like what?”

“How about we hide things around the apartment and see if Sunstreaker accidently finds them?”

“How does someone accidently find stuff?”

‘ _How to word this without saying anything about pranking_ _…_ ’ Sideswiped hummed. “It’s like we put little surprises around for someone to come across when they get near.”

Jazz cheekily replied, “That’s sounds like a nifty way to play until recharge.”

Prowl narrowed his optics and shook his helm at them. “But that speaker at orncare said that’s called ‘pranking.’ And pranking is mean. Pranking is like what Creator Sides did to that one mech.”

Sideswipe stifled an, “oh come on!” and cursing the board member named Ultra Magnus that kept touring the orncares and giving lectures. Sunstreaker found out most of the things Prowl was doing that deviants like the twins wouldn’t do originated with Ultra Magnus. They were not impressed.

At least Prowl still didn’t know the story of Sideswipe’s prank was over Smokescreen’s sire. That didn’t change the look Prowl was giving him now, much like the one where he demanded Sideswipe take a timeout. “Okay, Prowl. Well now that you’ve shot down that idea…,” vocalizer grumbling below venting noises, “what do you want to do?”

“Story time?” the sparkling glanced at a digital clock in the kitchenette.

“It’s not really that late?”

Sunstreaker, who poked his helm in when he overheard (spied) the word “pranking”, thought along the same lines as Sideswipe but came to a different conclusion. “Jazz, is it too early to switch to your nighttime visor?” He did not want to figure out how to remove a visor from a recharging youngling’s face. He didn’t trust Sideswipe to have the discipline for maintaining that level of fine control.

He tilted his helm thoughtfully. “No. It’s just different ‘cause it has settings to keep the visor light from disrupting recharge.” He turned to Prowl. “Will you help me set up the recharge stand? Can we set it up in your room?”

“Okay. Recharge stand for what?”

“My regular visor.”

Together they pulled apart Jazz’s bag, with some help from the twins. They didn’t want to interfere too much with Prowl’s questions and Jazz’s answers about his toys. When they were setting up a recharge stand in the shape of a youngling’s helm Jazz jumped up. “I have an idea! Let’s make a pillow and blanket fort and recharge under it!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun and I used to do that all the time at other sleepovers. We can then have story time inside the fort. Maybe we can put glow-in-the-dark stickers up on the fort? See if our stickers glow.”

Sunstreaker suggested, “How about Sideswipe gets the pillows and blankets, I’ll go with Jazz as he switches his visors, and Prowl can check if any of the stickers go.”

::We don’t have that many pillows and blankets.::

::Surely _you_ know how to improvise. Grab our berthroom stuff. We can at least make it big enough for two youths.::

Sideswipe took the challenge and started sleuthing for anything that could be used. Besides their own berth pillows and blankets, there was a few guest items and Sideswipe’s prank cloaks. He had several, meant to help camouflage him into shadows and buildings. Prowl didn’t know what he used them for but he figured it safe to use as a blanket around the sparkling.

Sunstreaker, Jazz, and Jazz’s little visor kit went to the washrack again where there was a mirror. Sunstreaker asked, “Can you even see your visor in the mirror?” They never set one lower since they just held their sparkling.

“No. Do you have a stepstool?”

“Somewhere…” The last time he’d seen it Sideswipe was carrying one of his cloaks. Finding the stepstool might take longer than it was worth it. Unless he was using it to put away his prank stuff. “Why don’t you set up and I’ll check?”

Sunstreaker found the stool nestled under some questionable platform-like materials. He needed to be on the outlook for those being ‘used.’

The stool was brought to Jazz and the youngling used his kit to disconnect his visor, clean it, and wrap it in the protective covers. Sunstreaker tried not looking at the youngling’s optics but it was strange seeing underpowered optics on an active youngling. Jazz easily pulled free his night visor from its casing, charged from before he left for orncare earlier. He slipped it on and snapped it into the safety holder points that would eventually incorporate the rewired optical electrical lines.

“Done.”

“Great. So now you see okay?”

“I see okay.”

Sunstreaker had the distinct feeling he got when his brother said similar words that there was an omission somewhere in there. Not that he was going to grill a youngling, but it was there.

Everyone met back up in Prowl’s room, finding three sheets of stickers on the floor. “Only the glitter ones glow,” Prowl said.

Jazz giggled. “Then your doorwings and star might glow.”

“So might your music notes and instrument strings.”

Sideswipe dropped the pillows, blankets, and cloaks onto the floor. “Jazz, this is your fort so tell us what you want.”

The four worked until the built a structure on Prowl’s berth big enough to house two youths, but the front was completely open. It looked more like a three-wall canopy. When they finished it was much closer to regular pre-recharge story time.

Prowl looked at his creators, his fort, and then at his books. A brilliant idea came to him and he pulled out a book his creators had read a hundred times easily. “Maybe Jazz can read story time? Creators won’t fit in the fort.”

Instead of Jazz’s usual can-do attitude, the youngling’s lips quivered and then he broke out crying. He’d tried so hard not to let anyone know but he didn’t think he could get away with hiding it after Prowl’s request, and he was already feeling sensitive after changing his visors in someone else’s home. “I can’t read anymore,” he sobbed.

The family immediately hugged Jazz, Prowl wedging himself in tight between his creators. His lips started quivering, feeling so bad that he made Jazz cry. His creators instantly sent soothing waves across the bond to keep him from crying. Jazz soon calmed down, his creators probably doing the same. Out loud the twins added their words about it being okay and Jazz was safe.

The sniffling youngling explained, “I can’t read more than a small word or two until I get my new visor. The way these visors work with my optics is they magnify and brighten most things where my optics are looking. If I zoom in on pictures enough the visor won’t magnify it, but the visor doesn’t distinguish words very well and over magnifies them.”

Prowl squeezed Jazz harder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

A few more sniffles. “Don’t tell the others, okay?”

“Okay.” Prowl looked at his fort and thought of a different idea. “What if I read to you?” He pushed his doorwings out and then swept them upward.

“I don’t want you to have to read to me. Especially since I know you don’t like mechs correcting you when you say your words wrong.”

“That hasn’t stopped you,” he rebutted. “I help you read, you help me pronounce the weird words?” His doorwings repeated the _out-sweep_ motion again.

Jazz asked, “What does that mean?” He tried mimicking the doorwings with his hands, but had to wait until the twins and Prowl stopped hugging him first.

“I think it means ‘please let me’ but Smokescreen gives me weird looks. It’s what he does and it’s what’s in the datafile.” He grabbed the datapad and pulled up the page on pleases.

Jazz looked it over. Sideswipe pointed, “We think it’s that one.”

Jazz zoomed in on the animated short and studied it. “Do it again?” Prowl repeated and Jazz studied it with his visor’s magnification tracking with his optics. Jazz looked down and scrolled through the images. “It’s this one. Your doorwings are swinging a little low when they go out, and then they dip.”

Sunstreaker zoomed the short back out. He snickered, “Apparently that motion means, ‘no, please let you.’ It’s sarcastic.”

“I don’t want to be sarcastic!”

Sideswipe mused, ::He has all the makings of a sarcastic mechling.::

::Don’t you dare tell him that. Mechlings are hard enough with their crazy ‘I’m about to be in my adult-frame’ attitudes.::

Jazz came up with the solution. “Maybe you can read the book and say some of the words in doorwing speak, and then I could help check if you got it right?”

“Yeah, I like that. That way I won’t accidently say mean things in doorwing speak again.”

The twins looked at each other, not sure what to do. Sideswipe asked, “ _Sooooo_ , you two want to play/read alone until recharge?”

“Yeah!” They both answered. The two climbed in under their fort.

Sunstreaker grabbed Prowl’s security blanket and handed it to their sparkling. Prowl grabbed it and wrapped it around Jazz’s shoulders. The sparkling said, “That’s my good luck blanket. When I was a newspark my creators kept me in it all the time until my first upgrade. Nothing bad ever happened to me when I was in the blanket.” He hugged Jazz. “So don’t be sad, okay?”

“I won’t cry,” Jazz said but he kept the blanket. He squirmed a little until he had the blanket trapped around him by his elbows and he held the datapad. “I’m okay now if you want to read.”

“Okay.” The sparkling looked at the two creators sitting on the ground. “You can go now. Dismissed.”

“Prowl!” The two creators gasped at the creation literally dismissing them.

Jazz laughed, the delight in it completely opposite of what happened a breem ago. “That’s what Ultra Magnus says. Prowler, you don’t say that to everyone.”

“Oh. But Ultra Magnus says he cares about all of us and then he dismisses us when we can go do what we want. Creators can go do what they want.”

Sideswipe leaned up to the berth and wrapped a hand around his sparkling’s helm, giving Prowl a kiss on his chevron. “Stop doing and repeating what Ultra Magnus says. We’ll talk about it later, but for now have fun until it’s time for recharge.” He gave Jazz a kiss on the side of his helm, figuring the sparkling could use some more comfort. Jazz giggled.

Sunstreaker gave them both little helm kisses. “Have fun with your story time, sweetsparks.”

Sideswipe left first, but only barely stepping out the door before stopping to look back. Sunstreaker turned off the lights and the stickers on the fort’s ceilings, Prowl’s doorwing edges, his chevron, Jazz’s audial horns, and even Jazz’s turbofox optics and tails glowed. The youths started giggling and poking the glowing spots.

The twins hung out in the kitchenette, eating snacks but mostly staying quiet to listen to the sounds of Prowl reading, Jazz correcting his pronunciation on a few words, and the pair working out doorwing languages every other sentence.

The noises kept dying down until…“Hey, you hear that?” Sideswipe suddenly asked quietly.

“No. You think they’re in recharge?”

The two delicately moved over until they could peer into the room. Wrapped up in Prowl’s security blanket with a book and a datapad haphazardly dropped to their sides was two recharging youths. Jazz’s helm rested on Prowl’s shoulder, and Prowl’s helm was turned enough that an outer edge of his chevron rested on Jazz’s audial horn.

Sideswipe smiled and pulled away. He waited for Sunstreaker to do the same. “Another parenting win for us. Drinks?”

“Why do you celebrate or worry all parenting things over drinks? Isn’t that defeating or exasperating the situation?” Sunstreaker mocked, knowing it wasn’t as much of Sideswipe’s go-to as it sounded, but still pretty close.

Sideswipe scoffed. “Drinking never needs to defeat anything but anger, and it exasperates nothing the experienced drinking can’t handle. Just wait until we get our new place and I can make all those high-grade I’ve been saving. For now we can have a party between the two of us. Gamble who has to take them into orncare in the morning?”

“Only if you drink that Jumping Turbofox drink and nothing from my bottle.”

“You’re on. I’ll win this time. I’ll conquer that Turbofox and you, and recharge in super late for my victory. Mostly because I’ll have to anyways for the hangover.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Prowl finds a weird critter at their new home’s play yard. What will the twins do when he brings it inside?
> 
> AKA a reader asked for Bob, cast as that animal children bring home as pets without telling their parents beforehand.


	4. Prowl Brought Home What?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bob is temporarily given a different name, considering who finds him.

Each carrying their last box, the family of three rode the elevator up to the sixth floor of their new eighteen-floor apartment complex. The barely-a-youngling’s box hardly fit in his hands, but he was determined to carry his own toys. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker each had filled subspaces and carried large boxes in their hands. Sunstreaker’s box was his remaining art supplies while Sideswipe’s was his new high-grade capable system and numerous specialized ingredients for his large kitchen.

Sideswipe lead the way, the most eager of the three. “Last time we cross this threshold as occupants moving in; now we’re residents!” He rushed in the door once it accepted his code and identity, going straight for his tiered-vaulted kitchen, the first room off of the entryway hall. Although they were on the sixth floor, the building was structured to have extra space every six floors, so it was almost like living on the top floor. The kitchen and each of the three bedrooms had ceiling with moderate tier-style vaulting.

While Sideswipe unloaded his stuff in his kitchen, Sunstreaker started in his room. He emptied his subspace and half unpacked the first box when he heard, “Creator?”

He paused in mid-dig, and turned around to see Prowl holding his small row of connected crystal plant containers. “I think they died again.”

Sunstreaker glanced at the containers’ tops. All but one lacked growth, and the one that had some growth definitely died. “Yeah, looks like, Prowler. Do you want to get more dirt again?” Usually when Prowl brought stuff to their attention it was a “must do now” thing, in the youngling’s mind. He could be patient, but his patience was _before_ he said something.

“Yes.”

Sunstreaker weighed his options. “How about we go to the playground? You haven’t seen it, right?” Double-nod response. “Then how about you play and replace the plants, and I’ll wait by the bench.” Now that Prowl was a youngling Sunstreaker could draw while the youngling played alone but nearby, hopefully burning off enough energy to not interrupt unpacking again.

“Okay!” Prowl ran to the front door, having an affinity for running now that he could do it. “Creator Sides, we’re going out to play.” He stopped at the door and pawed at it, looking back for Sunstreaker to get closer so he’d be allowed to open the door.

Sideswipe stopped talking to himself about his plans for the kitchen. He rounded his way out the kitchen and to Prowl. “You’re going out to play? Now?”

“Uh-huh. Plants died.” He showed Sideswipe the proof.

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” He waited for Sunstreaker to appear, partly ignoring Prowl’s “no.” His twin was carrying his drawing kit. ::We have way more important things to do.::

::Yeah, and hopefully when he burns out all his excess energy we’ll be able to do them without him bringing everything to our attention. We’re into our first boxes and it’s already “look at my dead plants.” Second box in and it’ll be “we need to go to the store because of my bent toy.”::

::Good point, he can be a demanding little one. Burn away, then.::

An annoyed tug across the bond redirected their attention to the displeased youngling. “We can go now?”

Sunstreaker answered, “Sure, Prowl. Run to the elevator if you want, but don’t knock anyone over.”

“Okay.” Prowl opened the door, barely reaching the lock pad, and then ran out and down the long hallway. Imaginary winds rushed by him, the dirt jostling around inside the containers. To finally be able to move without someone holding his hands was unbelievably freeing to the former sparkling.

Sunstreaker walked at a slightly-faster-than-normal pace. At eighteen floors, the three elevators didn’t move that fast. By the end he only had to marginally hustle when an elevator door opened.

The long courtyard was empty, as was the playground in the middle. If it weren’t for the move the twins would be working and Prowl would be at orncare, waiting out his few remaining deca-orns for the next schooling cycle to start.

Sunstreaker found a bench overlooking the playground. Sitting down, he freed the twitchy youngling. “Play where I can see you.”

“Okay!” Prowl ran off to the playground and set his containers aside, for the moment. He could get dirt last.

Only since his latest upgrade was he allowed to play without a creator by his side. He intended to make the most of his new independence. Running up ladders, going down slides, and crossing the horizontal bars filled the better part of a half-joor, until he started feeling the first tingly threat of tiredness.

He decided to take a break and go find himself some good quality dirt. “Creator! I’m going to go look for new dirt!” he called from the playground.

Sunstreaker lifted his optics. “Fine, but stay where I can see you.”

Prowl frowned at the lack of options that allowed, but he knew arguing wouldn’t do anything except get him sent inside. He picked up his containers and looked around the courtyard. There were bushes outlining pathways, but most look more decorative and decorative plants usually had mildly nutrient-enriched ground. Crystal plants needed highly fertilized dirt.

Moving along the line of plants, Prowl came across a thicket of course plants not yet pulled, just barely within Sunstreaker’s view. Plants this thick were surely growing out of enriched ground. His new frame armor was less pliable than a sparkling's, and while it saddened him a little to know at this point it was unlikely his coding would alter his appearance to look _something_ like the creators he knew, it at least meant the plants wouldn't hurt him.

He reached under the spindly plants and started pulling at it to test his theory when suddenly the bushes rattled. The started youngling fell backwards and almost cried for his creator but a soft chirring stopped him. Prowl crawled back onto his knees. “Hello?”

Chirring responded back, a little louder, but nothing emerged.

Prowl pulled his dead crystal out of its container and snapped off a tiny piece. He didn’t know what was in there, but maybe it ate crystals. He tossed the piece underneath. The thicket rustled and a yellow forearm, bigger in width than Prowl’s hand, snatched up the crystal. He could hear it try chewing on it.

What is it? He barely took in much information on the forearm, only that it had several small silver studs and possibly clawed fingers at the end. He wasn’t sure because of the shade, but the fingers were possibly purple.

He snapped off some more crystal and tossed it closer to the edge. The critter came out a little more and this time he could make out both arms and a face. Well, he could make out a facemask-styled face and yellow glowing optics. The arms were opposite colored, the other one purple where there’d be yellow.

Prowl shuffled backwards several steps. What kind of animal was that? Not sure if the move was smart but going with it anyways, the inquisitive youth tossed the remaining crystal just outside the bushes.

The primarily purple, yellow, and black critter hopped out and ate the crystal quickly. The critter's crouched height was over half the size of Prowl, and perhaps equal in length! It had a silver facemask-like mandible appearance and silver studs all over its body, and something growing out of it back. Its limbs were gangly. Whatever it was, it was probably also a youngling.

Most would freak at the sight of this misshapen creature, but Prowl was curious. He wasn’t sure if he should call for Creator Sunstreaker so he waited until the creature finished. When it did, it bobbed its upper body, chirped, and then slowly backed most of the way under the bushes.

From the way it moved, Prowl suspected its limbs were longer than it expected. “Are you growing funny?” He asked as he crawled forward a little. It chirped and backed under the bushes a little more. “I was growing funny, too. ‘Course, I didn’t look as funny as you.”

_“Chirp, chirp.”_

“You want more crystals? I don’t have anymore. Do you want energon?" he asked the creature. It stared at him. He made a drinking motion with his hands and the critter bobbed its whole body very fast underneath the rustling bushes.

“Is that nodding?” Prowl nodded his doorwings. The critter bobbed its whole body again. Prowl repeated his doorwing movements and the creature did its movements again. “Okay. I don’t think Creator Sunstreaker brought energon, but I’ll ask.”

Prowl scrambled over to Sunstreaker, leaving his plant containers behind. “Creator? Do you have some energon?”

Sunstreaker paused his drawings of the building and its courtyard. “I have whatever you didn’t finish before our last trip here. You want it?”

“Yes, please.”

Sunstreaker unsubspaced it and handed it to Prowl. “What were you doing over there?” He pointed to where he’d seen Prowl.

“I’m trying to find good dirt for my planters.” He didn’t tell his creator about the critter because then Creator Sunstreaker might not let him give it his energon.

“Alright. Well, try to find some soon. We should be going inside.”

“Okay.” Prowl pretended to drink his energon as he walked a few paces before running back. He found the critter under the bushes, sniffing his crystal containers after it dragged them under the bushes.

“Hey, give that back!” Prowl pulled it away. Ignoring the critter's protests of him taking away the crystal-fragranced dirt, Prowl emptied one of his plant containers and filled it with most of his energon. He pushed it closer to the critter. “Now you may use it.”

Yellow and purple arms reached out and secured the planter container rows before it started slurping up the energon. With each slurp it chirred louder. At the end it started purring.

Prowl flared his doorwings and then swept them high and wide, a way to say “I’m glad you liked my offering.” The buggy creature moved closer to Prowl and then wiggled its lower body. Prowl giggled and poured some more energon. The critter drank some more.

While it drank Prowl dared to reach out and see if he could pet its antenna. With careful fingers and a feather-light grasp, Prowl pet its antenna very carefully. At first it flinched but then it relaxed and purred louder. It also rewarded him with a full body wiggle.

Prowl returned its wiggle with a wiggle of his doorwings. It wiggled its body and Prowl returned the gesture back, the pair going back-and-forth until the critter drank the last of the energon.

“ _Chirp, chirp?”_ it spoke in a questioning-like tone.

Prowl didn’t know what to do. “Chirp?” he repeated questioningly. He moved his doorwings to say “yes?”

Either the chirp or that doorwing movement, or both, got the buggy creature very excited. It started bobbing very excitedly and then bounced onto Prowl, rolling both onto their sides (and away from Sunstreaker’s view). It started sniffing Prowl, alternating its large whiffs with nuzzles.

Prowl giggled and tried playfully fighting back. The critter wasn’t hurting him but it was clearly much stronger than him when his efforts yielded nothing.

“Prowl!”

Prowl stopped and covered the chirping creature’s mouth to silence its chirring. He yelled over his shoulder, “Yes, creator?”

“Time to go inside.” Sunstreaker gave his youngling a strange stare but chalked up the behavior to the oddball style of youthful playing.

“Okay!”

When his creator’s gaze returned to his drawing kit Prowl wriggled out of the grasp of the critter. “I gotta get some dirt,” he told the critter.

He quickly pulled some dirt up, having to pause every other dig to push back the critter trying to nuzzle his doorwings. He scrambled to fill just enough with the dirt. “I got to go, Wiggles!” he didn’t know what else to call him. “Stay here.”

The critter tried following him so he pushed it back until it finally relented and went under the bushes. “I’ll come back. Okay?” He wiggled his doorwings at “Wiggles,” and reached out to pet it goodbye. It sniffed his hand and then purred when it allowed him to pet its helm.

Prowl rushed off to his creator’s side. The pair left to finish unpacking, neither noticing the soft ruckus following them underneath the plants.

.

.

.

Sideswipe heard it first. Sunstreaker and Prowl were both in their rooms and Sideswipe was putting away the contents of the last of the kitchen boxes.

“What the Pit…? Is someone scratching the front door?” Sideswipe went to the front door and checked the exterior camera viewport, only to see nothing. “Damn mechlings. Acting like me. So annoying.”

Less than a breem later there was more scratching. Again, Sideswipe saw no one. The third time he ignored it, figuring it was younglings or mechlings looking for a reaction. The only prankster Sideswipe would satisfy was himself. He wouldn’t give into reacting to the scratching.

Since he didn’t finish his own energon, Prowl was starting to get hungry. He left his half-finished room and met his red creator in the kitchen. “May I please have energon?”

“Sure you can, Prowler. Let me just figure out where I put your cups.” They didn’t use the sippy-tops anymore, but they did still used the two-handle cups for Prowl. One never knew if he was going to grow oddly again and lose his sense of balance.

Before he could dig through his cabinets there was scratching noises the front door.

“What’s that?” Prowl asked.

“Stupid mechlings, probably. Ignore it.”

Telling a youngling to ignore something was like asking them to ignore the asker. Prowl waited until Sideswipe’s back was to him and then he scrambled over to the front door. He could hear the scratching much better now. He realized it was roughly his height. Reaching up he unlocked and opened the door just a peak. “Wiggles?!”

“ _Chirp, chirp!”_

“Sshh!” He spread his doorwings out and then slowly lowered them at an angle. The bug-like creature quieted down and slowly lowered himself with the doorwings.

Prowl opened the door and pulled the bug in by its shoulders. “ _Sshh_ ,” he repeated, much quieter. He wrapped his hands around one relatively large shoulder and guided it with him as close to the kitchen counters as possible, keeping the creature from Sideswipe’s vision.

“Ah hah!” Sideswipe exclaimed. “Finally! I got too carried away putting away my own stuff. I should move these to lower cabinets.” He opened the refrigerator and filled up the cup. He handed it to Prowl, who stood up on his peds front edges and pressed himself against the counters to reach.

“Thanks, creator.” He sipped with one hand. The other hand he kept on the critter, trapping him between the counter and his body.

Sideswipe watched Prowl for a moment, seeing himself suddenly more in the youngling’s optics than he expected. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Prowl was hiding something. “You good?”

“Uh-huh.” Prowl drank slowly, trying to be nonchalant and wait out his creator. When Sideswipe kept watching him, he tried a new tactic. “What cabinet will be cups be in?”

“Oh. Uh,” Sideswipe looked around. “Maybe this one?”

When Sideswipe checked the cabinets Prowl put the cup down to move silently but quickly, dragging/guiding his new friend to his room. When he got close he pushed the critter inside and closed his door. He rushed back to his creator, who was moving his cups.

“Thanks, creator.” He gulped down the last of his energon. “Do I put this in the sink?”

“For now. The counters are going to be very busy. I’m about to make the best energon you’ve ever tasted.”

“Are you going to make high-grade, too? Can I have something first? What did you call it? Ver-gin drink?”

“Ah, uh... let’s call it ‘youth drink’, but I’m not cracking open the high-grade just yet. Maybe later, but for now we’re just going with fancy mid-grade.” It was probably not best to have his freshly-upgraded youngling throwing about the words “virgin drink.” When did he hear that?

“Okay. Thanks.” Prowl walked to his room, doing his best to appear totally calm. When he entered his room, he instantly closed his door and looked around. “Wiggles?”

He couldn’t find the critter in his room, but even half-clean there were plenty of boxes, stacked books and datapads, and piled toys. “Wiggles,” he called again, this time adding his own doorwing wiggles.

_“Chirp, chirp!”_

The noise came from within the pile of soft toys. Prowl dug into the pile and was almost wacked in the face by a freed antenna. “Wiggles!” he admonished.

Wiggles bobbed its head and then wiggled its body as it settled some more into the soft pile. The movement was smashing a few of his toys.

“Stop that!” Prowl protested. He used his doorwings to signal stop, with an abrupt flare forward.

Wiggles stopped and looked scared. Prowl gave Wiggles a hug. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Maybe we can work it out better?”

Prowl tugged on Wiggles’ arms until the bug was in the middle of the cleaned area of his new room. “Okay, stay there.” He used his doorwings to signal “stay.” He pulled Wiggles and then stopped him with doorwing movements, this time a lot less abrupt. Between each stop he signaled for the critter to stay.

When Wiggles showed a quick understanding, Prowl clapped his hands. “Wiggles, you understand doorwing talk,” he said with a giant smile. His friend could understand him.

Over the next joor and a handful of breems Prowl worked on doorwing-speak with Wiggles, seeing how many words his friend understood. They kept going until Prowl’s creators wanted him.

“Prowl!” Sunstreaker called from well outside the door. “Come try a sample of Creator Sides’ idea of custom youngling-friendly energon flavors.”

“Okay!” he called back. “Stay here,” he whispered. He moved his doorwings to say “stay.” Wiggles sat down and gave Prowl a curious sideways look. “Stay,” he repeated verbally and with doorwings.

Prowl hurried out, trusting that the door closed behind him. “What is it?”

Sideswipe was still in the kitchen, but his high-grade apparatuses were out and in-use for the mid-grade. Sunstreaker sat on a chair he’d pulled out of the furniture pile, waiting on Prowl. Sunstreaker answered, “Creator Sides is trying out different ideas. I think this has too much of a kick for a youngling.”

“You have no taste,” Sideswipe rebutted. “Does it taste different than how I normally make it? Very. Does it taste bad? No. I don’t make bad energon. Especially not with my fancy new cookware.”

Prowl reached up for a drink to be handed to him, but Sunstreaker picked him up and put him on his knee. “Let’s not risk you spilling the drink. And I said it had a _kick_ , not that it was _bad_.”

“The first time you tried it you made a face,” the hurt in Sideswipe’s voice was unmistakable.

Sunstreaker send waves of apologies and appreciation across the bond. Sideswipe handed Prowl a shot glass filled with a sampling-size of the drink.

Prowl started sipping it slowly and found nothing wrong with it. If anything, it was borderline too tangy.

“See?” Sideswipe said. “He likes it well enough.”

Prowl almost said something when movement from off to the side pulled his focus away from Sideswipe. Prowl tilted his helm slightly – just in time to see Wiggles disappear into Sideswipe’s room.

“Eek!” Prowl cried, spilling his drink all over the twins’ hands on the counter.

“Ew!” Sideswipe grimaced.

“Aah!” Sunstreaker cried. He set the youngling down so he could join his brother at the sink.

Prowl rushed off, going into Sideswipe’s unpacked room. “Wiggles! Wiggles!” he whispered over and over again, moving his doorwings in time with his calling.

“ _Chirp, chirp!”_ came from the closet.

Prowl had never been in Creator Sides’ closet, but now that his critter-friend was hiding in there he had no choice. He opened the door and started digging through the haphazardly-placed mess.

“Wiggles!” he exclaimed when he saw Wiggles’ antenna. The critter was nestled in those strange hooded blankets Creator Sides used during Prowl’s first sleepover. Prowl started looking around in the pile. What were these things?

He found bottles with harmless names wrapped up in cloth and notes that said entirely different names, like a bottle labelled a cleaning solvent had a secondary label as “dries into smelly road glue”. There were boxes with false bottoms, mats with too much spring built inside, and so much more.

Prowl’s optics widened. These looked like things Ultra Magnus warned them about! Was Creator Sides still pranking other mechs? Ultra Magnus said that pranks were bad and Prowl knew he didn’t like it when other sparklings tried pranking him. Pranks were mean, and when Prowl saw sparklings be mean at the orncare, the caretakers took away the mean things and punished the sparkling. If Creator Sunstreaker still wasn't going to take Creator Sides’ mean things away, then it was up to Prowl to make sure his creator stopped breaking the rules.

Moving boxes around until he emptied three, he started gathering everything in the “mean things” pile and placing them in the boxes. He even plucked off the hooded blankets off of Wiggles, much to the critter’s chagrin. If they were by the prank stuff, then they were part of the stuff. He put the large mats on the tops of the boxes.

Now what? He couldn’t very well get caught moving or hiding these things. First was getting these boxes – and Wiggles – out of his creator’s room. First he tried lifting one but found it weighed down. Digging his heels down, he tried lifting again.

“Mmmm… umph!” He barely muffled his startled response when he lost the fight and fell backwards. His creator had too many prank things! He scrambled back up, trying again.

_“Chirp, chirp!”_

Wiggles bounded out of the closest, crouched down, and then squirmed his way under the box. The strong critter easily picked up the box on his back. “ _Chirp, chirp,_ ” Wiggles said, adding a whirl of soft clicks at the end.

Prowl slipped around the bug-critter and moved to the door. He spied his creators talking about the new systems in the kitchen, so neither was looking near his direction. “Let’s go, Wiggles.” He motioned forward with his doorwings.

The pair crept into Prowl’s room and temporarily hid the box in Prowl’s closet. They repeated the plan two more times, until he had all three boxes filled with Sideswipe’s pranking materials stowed away.

Prowl knew that was not a good hiding spot. He needed to find somewhere his creators wouldn’t think to look. “Wiggles, stay here and out of trouble,” he ordered, using his doorwings to tell Wiggles to stay. The bug laid down on his soft toys, seeming content after hauling three heavy boxes.

Prowl wondered outside. “What are you doing?” he tried sounded purely curious for non-plotting reasons.

“Making flavor corrections,” Sideswipe answered. “Well, soon, anyways. I’m just waiting on a few ingredients to process. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing. Just wanted a hug.” He held his arms out, giving his creators big optics.

“Aww!” Sideswipe grinned. He picked up Prowl and gave him a big hug. “You don’t normally go for these. What’s got my little mech in the mood?”

Prowl almost missed Sideswipe’s question. He used the hug as an excuse to look at his options. If he could get Creator Sides out of the house, and Creator Sunstreaker back into his room, he might find a good hiding spot. “I like our new place,” was the best answer he could find.

Sideswipe put down Prowl and Sunstreaker leaned down to give Prowl a tight hug. “Did you tell Creator Sides about the playground yet?”

“Oh yeah! The playground is fun.” Prowl launched into telling Creator Sides all about the playground, using it to also look for more ideas.

At the end he went with the only option that didn’t involve accidently-on-purpose breaking something. “Will the new flavors be tangy? I didn’t like it.”

“You’re imagining flavors,” Sideswipe teased. “I didn’t buy a thing with that type of flavor pallet.”

“But I wasn’t. Maybe something went bad?”

“I bought these ingredients just before we moved.” He pointed to the spot with re-sealed ingredients. “We’re good.”

Prowl moved to the spot and started looking for expiration dates. His creator was right, but that didn’t mean Prowl couldn’t make him think that he was wrong. “Huh,” Prowl pulled one close to him and peered at it closely, angling his doorwings to obscure his hands from his creators’ view. He scratched off half a number. “This one is expired.”

“No way.” Sideswipe snatched it and looked the date over. “Those sla – muffle-berry – eaters sold me expired product.” He tossed it down with a huff.

“Guess I’m going to the grocery store. Good thing one is pretty close, so I’ll probably be back within ten breems. Need anything?” the red twin asked his brother.

“Not at the grocery store.”

“See you soon, then.” Sideswipe left with a wave followed by private grumbling about stores not checking their shelved products’ expiration dates.

Prowl turned to his yellow creator. He didn’t know quite how to say “go clean your room” without sounding the least bit suspicious.

Sunstreaker asked, “Do you need help with your room?”

“No, thank you.”

“If you do, ask. I’ll be in my room. Don’t touch anything in the kitchen, sound good?”

“Okay.”

When Sunstreaker half-closed his door, Prowl quietly went to work. He rifled through every nook and cranny for a hiding spot big enough for even one box. He searched hallway closets, the washrack, the material washer/dryer, and all cabinets for a hiding spot. Unless he unpacked everything and stuffed it _very_ carefully behind the washer/dryer unit, there really wasn’t anything. Frustrated, the youngling flopped backwards onto the ground.

What was that hanging down from the ceiling, near the washrack? Prowl went over and found a dangling short string. He realized it was connected to three cut lines in the ceiling, with a fourth line made of a hinge.

He jumped up to the string, trying to reach it but didn’t come close. Grabbing Sunstreaker’s abandoned chair, he used it to jump again. This time he got the string and pulled it down with his body weight. The section of ceiling came down, bringing a slow-release ladder down as well.

This was prefect! He could hide it in the ceiling. Who would look there?

He went to his room. “Wiggles,” he said as he moved to the boxes.

Wiggles got up and bounded over to him, bobbing up and down when it reached him. Prowl guided Wiggles to carry the first box. They needed to work quickly for two reasons: Creator Sunstreaker _might_ see the ladder at any time, and Creator Sides _would_ see the ladder if it was down in seven breems.

Prowl used Wiggles to put the box on the second ladder step, and then he tried pushing it up. There was enough of a slant to the ladder that it was almost stairs, but not enough of an angle for the youngling to push the heavy box. Still, he tried.

“Umph!” Prowl was startled when he felt something bump itself under his aft until his legs flew up, and then suddenly he and the box were being moved up. He looked down and there was Wiggles, climbing up the ladder and pushing Prowl up with the top of his helm. Wiggles didn’t look too comfortable, though.

“Stop, Wiggles.” Prowl used his doorwings to gesture “stop.” Wiggles stopped and Prowl carefully slide back until his aft was comfortably resting on Wiggles’ shoulders. He pushed the box as hard as he could. “Go,” he ordered as he squeezed his legs against Wiggles’ neck.

Wiggles leaned into the box and together, with Prowl riding him, they pushed the box into the narrow attic space. When the box was far enough back, Wiggles picked up Prowl and used his finger-like claws to bring the youngling down with him. The duo did that with the next two boxes, Prowl mounting Wiggles except for when Wiggles had the box on its back.

With about two breems to spare they had all three boxes up. Prowl used Wiggles to help him push the ladder up enough for it to self-retract, and then he put the chair back to its earlier spot. “Good job, Wiggles!” Now Creator Sides couldn’t break the rules, nor could he brag about breaking the rules. Creator Sides had to behave like a good adult. Just like Ultra Magnus.

“ _Chir – keh, keh – irp!”_

Prowl realized Wiggles was panting and probably needed some energon. “Okay, Wiggles, let’s go back.” He took Wiggles back to the soft toys, helping the critter get comfortable.

In the kitchen Prowl used the bowl Sideswipe left unused to fill it with regular energon from the fridge.

“What are you doing, Prowler?”

Prowl turned around and saw his returned creator giving him a peculiar look. “Helping?”

“How are you helping by filling a bowl with energon?”

“Umm… I mean, I’d like to use it to dip anti-oxidant chips for a snack?”

Sideswipe immediately knew that turbofox-in-the-headlights look. He played along, curious what had his youngling acting so unusual. “Let me get you the chips.” He put away his new ingredients and fetched the chips bag. He poured a few on a plate and rested it on top of Prowl’s bowl. “There you go, Prowler. Enjoy.”

“Thank you!” Prowl walked carefully to his room and closed his door.

He poured the chips into the energon, figuring Wiggles could use the meal. He sat the bowl down. “Eat, Wiggles.”

Wiggles hopped out of his sleepy spot, loudly drinking and chewing his meal. Prowl moved his doorwings around, seeing how much Wiggles was paying attention to him.

Suddenly his door was opened. “I knew you were up – Primus, what is that?! Sunstreaker, help! We have a creepy-thing infestation! Prowl, stop feeding it.”

Sideswipe tried grabbing Prowl but the youngling threw himself onto Wiggles, just in time for the sprinting Sunstreaker to see the landing. “No! Don’t hurt Wiggles.”

Sideswipe groaned, “Damn it, he’s named it. You can’t have a pet, Prowl. Especially with something that’s not supposed to be a pet.”

Sunstreaker looked curiously at the thing their youngling was resting across. “We’ve never talked about pets.”

“Thanks for standing behind me,” Sideswipe retorted to the brother literally but not figuratively standing behind him. “That’s still not a pet.”

“How about we all go into the living room and talk about it?” Sunstreaker suggested. Privately he added, ::It’ll be easier to talk to Prowl when he isn’t try to protect the bug with his body.::

::How do you know that’s a bug? Bugs are not pets!::

Sunstreaker grabbed his brother’s shoulder and yanked the stubborn mech backwards and out the door. “Come on, Prowl,” he called. “Bring the bug with you.”

The brothers sat on opposite sides of the couch, currently pushed partway against the wall. Prowl walked out with Wiggles following behind his doorwings. Prowl instantly started. “Wiggles is my friend.”

Sideswipe countered, “Buggy creatures are not friends. At best they’re weird pets.”

::Hater,:: Sunstreaker comm’ed.

::Look at it. I don’t even know what it is.::

::He’s cute, in a weird kind of way.::

::Ugh, I despise you artist types sometimes.::

Sunstreaker asked, “How do you meet… Wiggles…?” That name was far too youngling-like for an adult to be using. “How did you get him up here?”

“I met it – him? – out at the playground, by some bushes.” Prowl petted Wiggles’ antenna, getting the critter to purr. “I found him later scratching the door.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sideswipe spoke. “You mean to tell me that your wannabe pet has been here for, like, almost 2 joors and we haven’t noticed?”

Prowl shrugged. “He’s been in my room.”

“ _How did he get into your room_?” Sideswipe couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Umm…” Prowl dug his ped into the floor. “I sort of… kind of… snuck him by you.”

Sunstreaker snorted, trying hard not to laugh.

Sideswipe glared at the snickering twin. “I, like, can’t even…” Sideswipe rubbed his optics, hoping somehow this was an elaborate vision resulting from him drinking that expired ingredient.

“He’s my friend,” Prowl insisted. “Look, we can even talk.”

Prowl turned so he was facing Wiggles. “Wiggles,” he called to get the bug’s full attention. He flicked his doorwings straight up. Wiggles sat straight up. Prowl lowered his doorwings slowly, Wiggles slowly following with him.

Prowl looked at his creators. “See? He speaks doorwing language.”

Sunstreaker smiled, a little for the adorableness and a little sad at explaining the reality. “Prowler, he doesn’t ‘speak’ languages. You trained him. That’s what you do with pets.”

“Oh,” the youngling replied, looking a little crestfallen. He shook it off quickly when Sunstreaker sent him a wave of comfort, turning back to Wiggles and giving him a hug around his neck. “Then he’s my pet.” He gave a light squeeze. “Please don’t take Wiggles away.”

Sideswipe glanced at Sunstreaker and saw all resistance slipping. ::No, don’t you dare make me the responsible bad guy.::

::Why can’t he have a pet?::

::He’s too young.::

::Apparently he’s old enough to sneak it by you and take care of it for a couple of joors without problem.::

::Yeah, two joors, all orn-long for however one of those live; what’s the difference?:: Sideswipe replied sarcastically.

::Let’s give him a chance.::

::If this ‘Wiggles’ destroys anything he’s gone.::

Sunstreaker smiled. “Alright, Prowl. You can keep… Wiggles… for now. But he cannot cause problems, got it? You have to take care of him?”

Prowl gave them his most serious face and neutral-set doorwings. “I promise. Wiggles won’t cause problems.”

“Why did you name him Wiggles?” Sunstreaker really didn’t care for that name.

“Because he wiggles a lot. See?” Prowl fluttered his doorwings and did several sweeping motions, cause the bug to wiggle and bob around with the movements.

“Prowl, we can’t call a pet Wiggles. That’s too… nickname-y.” That was nicer than saying “too silly for adults.” Based on Prowl’s point he suggested, “If you want to name him because of how he moves, how about we call him Bob?”

Prowl looked at his pet carefully. He bobbed his doorwings and his pet did the same. “Okay,” he reluctantly agreed. Bob would always be Wiggles in his mind.

Sideswipe sent his brother, ::If you name it, you have to care for it when Prowl has problems.::

::Fine. I’ll be the _good_ creator. The one that doesn’t crush our sparkling over pets,:: he added as a jab.

::I still think we’re just dooming the pair to sadder times. You better not make me regret not fighting this harder. I swear, if something goes wrong and we have to listen to Prowl cry his little spark out, you will find something extremely unpleasant in your soaps.::

::Whatever,:: Sunstreaker pretended to blow off the threat. “Prowl, how about you show me some more tricks you trained with Bob?”

“Okay!”

Prowl and Bob played in the living room, with the doorwing-less Sunstreaker asking questions by their side. Sideswipe immediately went back to his kitchen, trying to figure out how to cook with his sensitive new equipment. After a few breems of fussing with the controls he concluded that the main dial was too loose for the sensitivity of the equipment. He had some tools that could adjust the dial. Last he saw them was in his closet.

While one twin was making a determination, the other was making his own. Sunstreaker suggested, “Prowl, why don’t you get Bob a ball or something to play with?”

“Okay!” Prowl used a doorwing and his hands to guide Bob to Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker moved back onto the couch and the bug followed him, nuzzling Sunstreaker while the sparkling ran off.

“Ugh, not on the couch,” Sideswipe whined. “His feet have to be dirty.”

Sunstreaker checked the couch. “Looks okay. Then again, maybe this is a dirtier couch than we realize,” he smirked.

“I know that was somehow directed at me. I don’t know _how_ , but I know it was. Forget it, I’m just going to grab my tools.” Sideswipe shook his helm as he headed to his room. When he stepped into the room Prowl came rushing out, too excited to notice his disappearing creator.

Prowl held a ball about the size of his hand, brightly colored and bouncy. “I got the bouncy ball because – ”

“AAAH! ROBBERY!”

Prowl jumped at his missing creator’s scream. He turned to look at the source’s direction, dropping the clutched ball.

Sideswipe practically fled his room. “We got robbed between moves! We need – ” he suddenly stopped. His sparkling had that turbofox-in-the-headlights look again. “Prowl,” Sideswipe spoke again in a calmer, lower voice.

“Yes, creator?” the youngling asked nervously.

“Did you go into my room?”

Drat, there was the one thing the youngling hadn’t thought about during his escapades. “Why would I go into your room?”

“Don’t play games. Did you take my stuff from my closet?”

Prowl took a very deep in-vent and steadied himself. He needed to let his creators know that Creator Sides did something bad by having those things, and that Prowl had done nothing wrong. “You have mean things but Creator Sunstreaker hasn’t taken them away, so I took the stuff that you shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t take mechs’ stuff without even asking, Prowl. We taught you better than that,” Sideswipe stressed, fighting back the irritated growl. “Where’s my stuff? How did you even move it? Wait, did you use Bob to move my stuff?”

“Don’t blame Bob,” Prowl protested. “I made him move the stuff because it’s wrong for you to have it.”

“It’s _my_ stuff. Sunstreaker and I are the adults here and we make decisions what’s wrong and all right to have. You don’t take my stuff because you don’t like it, just like you don’t punish adults because the other adult isn’t doing what you want. Now where did you put my stuff?”

“I’m not telling.” The youngling crossed his arms.

A little growl escaped. “You must have hidden it in your room.” Where else could Prowl hide so much stuff within two joors without one of the twins noticing? Sideswipe turned around and in several brisk strides made it to Prowl’s room with the youngling quickly on his heels.

Sunstreaker decided to stay where he was and just listen to the decidedly unquiet voices. He heard (and felt) Sideswipe’s frustrated, “Gah! Where did you hide my stuff?!”

“I’m not telling!”

Sunstreaker outstretched his ped and used it to pull the discarded ball towards himself. He was most assuredly not getting involved.

“Well then you’re grounded to your room until you tell me.”

“Fine.”

Pause. “Don’t think you’ll get away with using locking yourself in your room again as a get-out-of-jail free card. I already took care of the override lock codes.”

“Fine, then I’ll just stay here and clean.”

Sunstreaker bounced the ball towards the front door. Bob scrambled off the couch and chased it down the aisle way, snatching it when it bounced off the door.

“Oh no you won’t!” Sunstreaker could hear the growing frustration in his brother’s voice. “Until you tell me where you put my stuff you’ll stay in your room and not clean, or you’ll come out and not clean when I tell you to!”

“I’ll clean my room whenever I want!”

Bob rushed Sunstreaker the ball and dropped it in Sunstreaker’s lap. “You’re smarter than an average pet, I’ll give you that,” he chuckled.

Sunstreaker rolled the ball towards the kitchen and sent his brother a comm. ::You are the worst at figuring out punishments.::

::I’ve spent my life avoiding them, how am I supposed to know how to deal them out?:: Sideswipe snapped.

Sunstreaker had his reply barely formed when he heard Sideswipe’s voice. “You put that down!”

Sideswipe vented his frustrated. ::I hate Ultra Magnus. This has to be his fault, just like last time.::

::Probably. You’ll have to get used to this or hide your things better, because I hear he does lecture tours to Prowl’s new school, too.::

::Then we’re moving Prowl to a private school.:: Both knew they couldn’t afford private schooling, but that didn’t stop the angry Sideswipe from demanding it.

::Sure. You get on that.::

::Seriously, we’re – oh, hey…:: Sideswipe trailed off before Sunstreaker heard him say out loud, “I said put that down. Put that down or – or – or I’ll not read you a story.”

“Yes you will!”

“Don’t smart-mouth me! Hey, stop cleaning! I said stop cleaning!”

Sunstreaker reached down and petted Bob as he took the ball, still content on ignoring Sideswipe's problem of not knowing how to deal with troublesome youth antics. His brother deserved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have one last idea for younglinghood (childhood). Feel free to give more examples.
> 
> I’ve also been toying with grandparent ideas. While I’ve never shipped them, Ratchet and Ironhide keep coming to mind because of the original idea that the twins are the rebels between two generations of non-rebels. 
> 
> Let me know if you want grandparents, who, and some grandparent stories. Most of my RL grandparent stories involve boats, goats, excessive use of coats, and how Scooby-Doo was considered too scary by my grandma. 
> 
> **Next chapter:** It’s Prowl’s first orn at school, and Jazz’s first orn back since his surgery.  
>  (And also it's Hound's and Smokescreen's first school orn, too!)


	5. School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl starts school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession: I currently don't like writing, but I had time to work on fanfics and nothing else, so I’m choosing to write what I can to push through that road block.
> 
> Why do I dislike writing right now? The reason actually violates AO3 rules (yes, I’m serious), so you’ll have to go to [this Tumblr post](http://oly-chic.tumblr.com/post/157321498689/for-my-ao3-author-notes-im-writing-this-post) if you’re curious why. Please don’t post a response to the Tumblr post in the AO3 comments!

Sideswipe couldn’t recharge. He tried but all that came to him was images of tomorrow going horribly wrong. It was Prowl’s first orn at school! Not orncare, but actual school.

His little one was not the greatest at making friends, Jazz being the main, if not only, exception. Sideswipe was more worried about that than anything else. Prowl was smart and would do fine with his studies. The little one’s emerging rigidness in rules was more troublesome than any homework assignment Sideswipe could imagine.

Eventually it neared time to go to get ready. Three breems before his alarm was scheduled there was a knock on the door. “Creator!”

Sideswipe groaned. Time to face his fears. “Coming, Prowl.”

Although Prowl didn’t need them to shower anymore, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker still set the shower’s temperature. Their reasoning was selfish, that they wanted to keep themselves involved in as much of Prowl’s life as possible. They missed the little things as Prowl grew up, like their sparkling cuddling them in their shower.

When Sideswipe emerged from his room Prowl jumped up and down. “I already packed my bag!”

“How long have you been up?”

“About one joor. I packed and then I practiced reading in case I get called on to read in front of the whole class.”

Sideswipe waited until the bouncing Prowl was in the air and then snatched him into a tight hug. “Tonight you’re getting warm energon.”

Prowl wiggled and tried using his doorwings to push away. “Creator! Let me go. I’m a big youngling now.”

“Nope, you’re still my little youngling and always going to be. In fact, I’m going to keep you right here. I’m never going to let you go.”

Prowl squirmed harder. “Nooo!”

Sideswipe nearly laughed but he committed to the persona. He carried Prowl into the red creator’s room. “Yup. We’re going back to the berth and you’ll stay with me here _forever._ Sunstreaker will bring us energon.”

“What’s this about me bringing you energon?” a voice from the doorframe asked. Sideswipe pivoted around, Prowl’s dangling legs swinging, to see Sunstreaker and his buggy shadow.

“I’m keeping Prowl here. He’s never going to leave,” Sideswipe declared.

Sunstreaker smirked. “I can accept that.”

Prowl protested, “I can’t! Let me go! I got to go to school. Creator,” he pleaded, “please let me go so I can shower. I don’t want to be late.”

Sideswipe checked his internal chronometer and noted that they still had an extra breem before their regular schedule, let alone being at risk for tardiness. “But you aren’t going to school.” Sideswipe fell backwards into his berth, careful to not catch Prowl’s limbs and doorwings on anything.

“No!”

Sunstreaker chimed in, “Yup.” The yellow twin joined his family on the berth, further pinning Prowl is a giant family hug. Bob chirped and then wiggled his way onto the berth. The bug pushed his way into the middle, pinning Prowl’s leg.

“Nooo,” the youth moaned.

Sunstreaker chuckled and got up. “Alright, we’ve tortured him enough. Hand him here.”

Sideswipe refused. “No, I get to hold him for as long as possible.”

“You get to take him to school. I should get to hold him for as long as possible.”

“Nobody holds me, I’m a big youngling and big younglings walk.”

Both twins ignored him. Sideswipe crawled up while holding Prowl, slightly huffing. “Fine.” Sideswipe passed off the squirming Prowl, the twins’ fighter frames easily able to accommodate getting around the youngling’s protests.

Sunstreaker coddled Prowl, wanted to hold his sparkling for an extra klik before walking them to the shower. Prowl didn’t want to cooperate so Sunstreaker didn’t get his full klik. “Alright, we’re going,” he sighed. He held Prowl while walking to the shower, refusing to give into Prowl entirely.

Sideswipe went into the kitchen to pull out breakfast energon, and then repack Prowl’s lunch. The fuelie packed an extra energon goodie, wondering if he should have made more. He could only hope his latest teachings on “sharing is caring” would work and have Prowl share the extra. He even called it a “social rule,” begrudgingly hoping the use of the word “rule” would get Prowl to follow it better. To his dismay, Prowl was a little better at socializing if the word “rule” was used.

Sunstreaker was only with Prowl until the shower was set and his sparkling was busy getting clean. Sunstreaker walked Bob out, bringing him to the kitchen to get his pet food. To Sideswipe he said, “Think you’ll be able to concentrate on work?”

“Ha! Pit no, but I already planned around the fretting. Is it bad I left my schedule open for Prowl’s lunch?”

“You can’t visit him during his first lunch at school. That’ll make him look bad.”

“I know,” Sideswipe groaned. “I feel like spying on him, more than anything else. This orn’s so nice that I’m pretty sure lunch will be outside.”

“You can’t spy on kids from the fence. That’s how Enforcers get called in.”

“ _Pffft_! I’ve mastered out-driving Enforcers.”

Sunstreaker pointed out, “Until tomorrow when you return to the scene of the crime to pick him up.”

“Oh yeah. Damn. Fine, I won’t be a watchful creator.”

“Try creepy creator. Here you go, Bob.”

The critter almost didn’t let Sunstreaker put down the food bowl before nibbling at it. Luckily Sunstreaker was used to it by now and nimbly moved his fingers around to avoid another incident.

Their sparkling bounded into the room, his doorwings slightly dripping as he climbed into a kitchen bar chair. “Breakfast?”

Sideswipe slid the youngling-size cup to his sparkling, missing the adorable sippy cups that Prowl outgrew. “Why are you still wet?”

“No time to finish drying. I want to get to school early.” To illustrate his point, Prowl nearly inhaled his morning energon.

“I’m not letting you into my interior while wet.” Sideswipe pointed back to the shower. “Go finish drying.”

“But creator,” Prowl whined, his doorwings and shoulders sagging. He jumped down and ran back to the shower room.

Five breems later Prowl and his bag were loading up in Sideswipe. When he was settled, Prowl asked, “Creator, can we go over math again?”

Internally he groaned as he started driving. Prowl’s latest obsession with math was taxing for the mechs who didn’t think much of the subject. Granted, the topics were easy, but that didn’t mean Sideswipe liked thinking about it. “How about addition?”

“No, division.”

“Alright, alright. What’s six divided by three?”

Prowl shook his head. “That’s too easy, it’s two. Try something like 256 divided by eight. It’s thirty-two.”

“Prowl, it’s too early to give you math that’s three-digits long and making sure it comes out a whole number.”

“I’ll ask myself. What’s… 546 divided by seven? It’s… seventy-eight.”

Sideswipe listened to his sparkling quiz himself on math until they pulled up to the school. He’d go in with his sparkling to make sure Prowl found his bag’s cubical alright, and put away his labeled lunch, but after that he’d have to go. He didn’t want to go.

Prowl practically walked Sideswipe into the building and to the memorized classroom, the youngling speed walking the whole way. The youth didn’t need help finding his cubical’s bland nametag.

Sideswipe held back his frown at the blandness of that nametag. During orientation the younglings painted their own nametags for the spots to put away their belongings. Prowl painted his with black lines on the white background. Other youths used bright festive colors, and all kinds of doodles could been easily spotted from his viewpoint.

Prowl’s sharp memory proved that the sparkling could handle himself and Sideswipe didn’t get to help Prowl for as long as he wanted. “Okay, I guess that’s it. Goodbye, Prowl.” This time he hugged Prowl in a less crazed-creator way, trying not to embarrass his socially-awkward sparkling.

“Goodbye, Creator.”

Prowl watched Sideswipe leave, both eager and scared. School would soon start, but he was alone! Jazz was not in his class and while Smokescreen and Hound were in his class, he was only loosely friends with them. Perhaps not even that, if he compared himself to Creator Sides’s and his friends.

His teacher, a young scientist transitioning from teaching school at the lower levels to the higher levels, ushered the students around him. “Younglings,” Perceptor called. “Welcome to the official start of class. Before you get settled we need to attend the ‘welcome’ assembly. Please line up by the door.”

Prowl tried getting to the front but three other students beat him to it. He didn’t pout though, because pouting was for sparklings. The line of twenty students wandered out the door, Perceptor leading them and his teaching aids helping keep the students in a line. Other youngling classes joined them, five lines of twenty students.

Perceptor chastised the other instructor, making his students walk in a weave. “Brainstorm, knock that off. You’ll cause the younglings to smack into each other.”

“Oh, come on Perceptor!” the one called Brainstorm happily protested. “It’s time to have some fun. I can’t wait to show them my new gadgets.”

“No. I swear I’ll call the administration if you show them whatever you felt compelled to make.”

“Can I show you during their lunch?”

“No.”

Prowl lost interest in the talking teachers, his interest peaked in some blue-red-white he saw. Could it be Ultra Magnus? Would Ultra Magnus speak at the assembly?

As it turned out, Ultra Magnus was leading the “welcome” assembly for all new younglings. “Sit straight, younglings,” he said to the ones that slouched. Prowl wasn’t one of them, well aware that Ultra Magnus would spend half a breem addressing bad posture. He wanted Ultra Magnus to get to his lesson about rules already!

“That’s better,” Ultra Magnus began. “Welcome, younglings. Before you should start your studies, you need to know a few things about the differences in orncare and school. Number one: running is only for recess or lunch, since you’ll be busy with your studies elsewise. Number two…”

Prowl listened intently to all the new rules of his school, such as the new definition of an “inside voice” and how much time to dedicate to homework. He’d have homework! Now he wouldn’t have to depend on his creators being in the mood to teach him new things, like higher math. Surely other younglings were at his level, right?

Evidently they were not, as he learned after the assembly and when the first lesson began. They were busy reconfirming everyone knew addition, subtraction, shapes, and colors. Prowl was bored out of his mind. How could anyone not know that the answer to “4-2” inside the blue box was 2?!

They broke out into groups and Prowl was paired with new younglings, Smokescreen, and Hound. They were supposed to figure out how to subtract colors from a shape to make a new number. Prowl could already see the number four written inside the colors.

Prowl excused himself from the group. He walked up to his teacher. “Teacher?”

“Yes?” Perceptor asked over his desk, holding a datapad barely within Prowl’s view.

Prowl’s optics bulged as he saw the datapad. It was so pretty, with number and graphs all over the place. “What’s that?”

“This is some basic differential equations. I’m preparing for the class I teach after this one.”

“Can I see it?”

Perceptor raised an optic ridge. “Certainly, but you won’t be able to understand it.”

Prowl took the datapad. His optics widened at the amount of numbers and glyphs. “Why are there glyphs by numbers?”

He could tell his instructor was trying to keep his explanations simple, but every time Perceptor asked Prowl had another question. After his sixth question, Perceptor asked, “Would you like to stay inside during your first recess and talk some more? I imagine this class must be redundant for you, if you’re already asking me these types of questions.”

Prowl chewed on his bottom lip. Yes, he did want to learn more; however, Creator Sides would be disappointed in him for not playing with other sparklings. What other sparklings? Hound was becoming fast friends with several of the new sparklings, and Smokescreen was still slow to play with him.

He came up with a compromise. “Can I start recess with the other younglings, and if I don’t find a youngling to play with can I come back?”

“Certainly. Why don’t you go along now and try to friend some of the sparklings in your group?”

After a joor the bell for first recess rang and all but Prowl rushed to the fenced playground meant for new younglings. The twins’ youngling dragged his peds out, fearing he wouldn’t be able to find a friend for playing. He didn’t want to let his creators down.

He tried talking to Smokescreen. “Hi, Smokescreen. What are you doing?”

“We’re getting ready to play tag.”

“Can I play?”

Smokescreen’s face twitched with uncertainty. “Let me ask.”

The other Praxian youngling walked over to talk to a small group of younglings, and with them was Hound. Prowl held his intakes until Hound came over. “We can play tag with you.”

At first Prowl was excited but soon he noticed a trend. Prowl wasn’t getting chased as often, despite Smokescreen’s constant fate of being tagged suggesting that Praxians were prime targets. The main reason he wasn’t getting chased was because Smokescreen never came after him.

“Psst, Prowl!” someone called from the fence separating new younglings from older younglings.

Prowl stopped running and turned around. “Jazz!”

The older youngling had his fingers wrapped around the fence. “How’s school?”

“Boring. How’s your classes?”

“A little boring. They stuck me in a class for catching up. What are you doing?”

“Playing tag,” Prowl answered with a frown.

“Doesn’t look much like tag to me. How about you and me play?”

“Okay!”

Jazz shimmied up the fence and hopped over it, the fence never meant to keep anyone out. “I’m it!”

Prowl giggled and took off, running away from the other game to avoid confusion. Jazz chased him all over the playground, tagging Prowl when the half-Praxian tried escaping on the slide. Too soon the bell rang and Jazz had to leave.

The Polyhexian hugged Prowl. “See you later.”

“Will you be here next recess?”

Jazz shook his helm. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow at first recess? I’ll see you at the end of the week at least?” he said, referring to their standing playdate.

Prowl’s doorwings almost flicked downward but he stopped them, knowing Jazz could now read doorwings. “Okay. See you later.”

At lunch it was much the same as tag, where it was harder for him to eat and play with Smokescreen and his friends. This time Prowl went to see Perceptor.

“What’s that?” he asked his teacher.

Perceptor handed him the datapad. “The answer key to some of the logic questions I’m grading.”

“Can I try it?”

Perceptor was bemused, his face scrunched. “This is for older mechlings.”

“Please?”

“Alright.” Perceptor handed Prowl a blank copy of the test.

Prowl spent the rest of his time studying the blank copy, invested in trying to figure out the questions. They were hard but he thought he could reason them out. He’d gotten better at find reasons, considering how odd Creator Sides acted.

He handed it to Perceptor when the lunch bell rang. Perceptor smiled at him. “I’ll grade it later and go over you with the results tomorrow, or the next time you skip your break.”

Prowl finished class with as much boredom as he started. He tried again to play a game with Smokescreen and his friends, having slightly better success with Smokescreen’s friends, but not Smokescreen.

Sunstreaker picked him up, meeting him inside the classroom. The yellow mech greeted his youngling with a hug. “How was class?”

“Okay.” Prowl shrugged. He wasn’t about to say something bad about its boringness while still in the classroom. Ultra Magnus and his creators said that was rude.

Prowl was more honest on the ride back, telling his creator everything. Sunstreaker was quiet for most of the ride, speaking only when Prowl asked him questions. The yellow mech was much more upset about Prowl’s social problems than he was willing to let on.

He comm’ed his brother. ::We need to give Prowl a good evening. He didn’t have a good time with school.::

::What happened?!::

::Class was boring and most of the younglings sided with Smokescreen during play and lunch time. I was really hoping Smokescreen’s orncare caregivers took care of the full-Praxian bias of his family.::

::Damn, me too. I’ll figure out something before you get here.::

Sideswipe greeting his family by giving Prowl the same sweeping hug he gave Prowl before school. “Time for massive hugs again!”

Prowl giggled and squirmed. “I told you that I’m too old for that.”

“That giggle says otherwise.” Sideswipe carried Prowl to the kitchen. “Ready to make dinner with me?”

Prowl was still poor at making energon goodies, and almost as poor at making mixed (non high-grade) drinks. That didn’t stop him from wanting to try. “Okay!”

Even Sunstreaker joined in and the three made enough energon goodies for dinner, breakfast, and Prowl’s lunch. Prowl wore enough of the powders to probably make the next orn’s dinner as well. They even made several extra goodies for Prowl to try sharing at lunch the next time, Sideswipe hoping it would help Prowl either bridge that gap with the younglings he knew, or make new friends.

“Creators, can we eat now?”

“Yup!” Sideswipe answered. “You two sit down and I’ll store the extras. I don’t know how I’ll find room, but I swear I will. I’m not the creative one for nothing.”

Sunstreaker rebutted, “I’m the creative one. You’re the ‘ _creative_ ’ one.”

“Says you. Now go feed Prowl.”

Sideswipe managed to put all the food in the fridge with some precarious stacking. He added a warning note to the fridge door to open the fridge carefully. Turning to his family, he saw Prowl’s big smile. Whatever his sparkling was feeling about school, Sideswipe knew he and Sunstreaker could always make it better. Besides, if nothing else, Sideswipe could prank the class and make Prowl look the hero.


	6. Mischief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter about parent-teacher conferences, as requested.

“I swear I’m going to give it to him if he says anything negative about my youngling-raising style,” Sideswipe said to Sunstreaker. “Ultra Magnus has been an awful influence.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sunstreaker said as they prepared for creator-teacher conference. There would be several teachers they’d visit but Ultra Magnus had put down Prowl as one of the younglings whose creators he wanted to see personally.

Ultra Magnus’s request put both twins on edge. Either it was to praise them or to chastise them. Prowl was performing well in school, and to the chagrin of Sideswipe, Prowl followed Ultra Magnus’s behavior teachings to the glyph. However, Prowl had once mentioned asking Ultra Magnus questions that he conveniently forgot the questions, and shrugged off the answers. Sideswipe knew the act well, so he had his suspicions.

At the moment Prowl was at Jazz’s home since it was a half-orn at school so the teachers could meet with the creators, and it wasn’t Jazz’s creators turn yet to participate in the conferences. The conference was like one-sided speed-dating with teachers, with them giving Prowl high scores for classroom work, but listing concerns about Prowl’s inability to find teammates on his own during group activities. Neither twin was surprised with the concerns, instead finding relief that the problem was finding teammates “on his own” instead of getting along with teammates. Prowl had definitely improved.

Ultra Magnus was last, since he was not a teacher and therefore not part of the normal round. Sideswipe was on high-alert when he sat down with the larger mech and he could feel Sunstreaker’s disapproval through the bond. Sideswipe pushed it to the back of his mind when Prowl started prodding the bond. He could behave.

“Good orn, I’m glad you could meet with me,” Ultra Magnus began.

Sideswipe politely said, “Yeah, us too.”

Sunstreaker added, “We’re glad to be here. We’re surprised you wanted to see us about Prowl. Is everything okay?”

“Prowl is doing excellent in classes where I attend as a special guest, and I’ve noticed he behaves well during school assemblies.”

“That’s good,” Sideswipe answered carefully, feeling like the other ped was about to drop.

The twins swore they saw Ultra Magnus take a deep in-vent. “I am concerned about influences on Prowl. He’s previously asked how to handle a misbehaving creator.”

::Oh, that’s it,:: Sideswipe said to Sunstreaker.

::Don’t you dare!::

Sideswipe dared. “You’re talking about me, aren’t you?”

“I’ve heard your name during these conversations.”

“I’m a good creator, and just because my creation and I don’t see optic-to-optic on how to have fun doesn’t mean I’m a misbehaving creator.”

“Prowl seems to think so,” Ultra Magnus countered.

“That’s because you teach him that!” Sideswipe snapped. Sunstreaker thought about intervening but decided to stay out of it for now.

“I teach sparklings and younglings how to behave so they grow into fine mechs. I would expect the same to be said of you, of your behavior around your youngling if nothing else.”

“What exactly has Prowl noticed about me that’s got your gears in a bunch?”

Ultra Magnus ignored the insult. “Most of the time he hears your stories about pranking mechs, which he says you tell fondly.”

“I tell those when he’s supposed to be doing homework or recharging.” It grinded Sideswipe’s gears a tad to know Prowl was faking something so he could collect proof of Sideswipe’s antics. “It sounds like to me we need to reinforce homework or recharge time better.”

Ultra Magnus frowned. “Are you saying you don’t intend to stop misbehaving?”

“It’s not misbehaving, it’s having fun. No gets hurt.” Sideswipe pretended not to remember that time with the creator who insulted Prowl. “Sounds like I need to have a chat to Prowl again about how Cybertronians have different types of fun and that’s okay.”

“Not again,” Sunstreaker muttered. The two ignored him.

“It’s misbehaving at the expense of others,” Ultra Magnus argued. “You’re teaching Prowl how to negatively impact others.”

“Obviously I’m not if he’s tattling on me to someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Yeah,” Sideswipe said with a sweep of his hand in Ultra Magnus’s direction. “You keep teaching him what’s wrong is what _you_ wouldn’t do, and I’m trying to teach him to accept that individuals are diverse. You want a bland uniform world and I can’t live like that.”

“Of course individuals are diverse; however, socially-acceptable manners are not.”

“We’ve taught him manners, Mags. We’ve been working on him and his social behavior.” Manners weren’t high on their list so much as having fun with friends. Prowl’s idea of fun was too heavily influenced by rule-abiders, the twins thought.

Sunstreaker finally cut in before Ultra Magnus could respond to being called Mags. “If we weren’t doing a fine job then you wouldn’t be having conversations with him about Sideswipe’s behavior. I don’t entirely disagree with you about Sideswipe being a misbehaving cretin, but aside from Prowl overhearing stories he’s not supposed to, Prowl isn’t exposed to it. If there’s anything we’re going to take away from this, Sideswipe will be telling his stories either over comms or after we’re sure Prowl’s recharging.”

“Way to stand up for me, bro.”

“That’s not what I want to hear,” Ultra Magnus pressed his lips.

“Well that’s too bad because we’re his creators and you’re just a special visitor,” Sunstreaker continued. “We don’t mistreat our youngling so you can’t interfere.”

The buzzard for the final half-breem sounded and the three looked intensely at each other. Ultra Magnus broke the silence first, “I will be talking to Prowl more regularly.”

Sideswipe shot back, “Oh yeah? Well we’ll get your visiting schedule and regularly have family vacations those orns.”

“Or something,” Sunstreaker added. ::We can’t keep pulling him out of his classes every time Ultra Magnus visits.::

::Watch me.::

::You have a job.::

::Argh, stop arguing with me.::

Ultra Magnus voiced similar concerns. “I hope you won’t _penalize_ Prowl for school activities you disagree with.”

“Oh, you creation-of-a- ”

_DING!_

Sideswipe jumped up. “We have to go pick up our sweet youngling now, and we’re going to have lots of fun that you just might not approve of.”

“I doubt Prowl will partake in that, since I’ve been a strong, positive role model for him.”

All Sideswipe wanted at the moment was to have the last word. The only thing that came to mind was, “We’ll see about that,” and then he turned away and left as quickly as he could without looking like he was fleeing.

Sunstreaker caught up to him. “That went well,” he answered sarcastically.

“I told you I wasn’t going to take his crap if he gave it.”

“Oh, you must certainly did not take it. You know that he’s going to do everything he can with Prowl just to spite you.”

“I’ll figure out something.” Sideswipe was committed to making sure their youngling would open his mind so that he could play better with other younglings, who were mischievous by nature.

Both drove to Jazz’s home and picked up Prowl, Sideswipe jumping at the chance to have Prowl ride with him. Sunstreaker didn’t bother arguing, knowing his brother was hyped up on defying Ultra Magnus.

Sideswipe asked, “How was playing with Jazz?”

“Good,” Prowl answered, a box puzzle in his hands. “We made these.”

“What’s in it?”

“A maze and some sliding blocks. You listen to the way the ball moves and move the sliding blocks until you here it fall in the hole.”

“That’s impressive. I’m a little surprised that Jazz made one.” The youngling had a short attention span sometimes.

“He took several breaks and made energon goodies with his creator. He finished after me, so I worked on coloring.”

“What’d you color?” asked Sideswipe.

“I color-coded school rules.”

Sideswipe nearly swerved. “Come again?!”

“I wanted to make sure Jazz knew the rules better, so I color-coded them with colors he can still see okay so he knows what categories to look at when he’s not sure.”

::For the love of Primus, are you hearing this?:: Sideswipe mentally facepalmed as he complained to Sunstreaker.

::I wish I wasn’t.::

“Prowl,” Sideswipe began, trying his earnest to not sound frustrated with his youngling, “Jazz doesn’t need you to teach him how to behave.”

“But he’s always trying to teach me how to behave, so why can’t I do the same?” Prowl protested.

“Remember what we said about individuality and diversity?”

“Why can’t my individuality be okay?”

::Primus damn it,:: Sideswipe groaned.

::Haha, you’re screwed.::

“It’s not that it’s _not_ okay,” Sideswipe explained, “it just needs to be expanded.”

“But I know all the rules.”

“That’s not what I meant. How about we go to the park instead of home?” Maybe switching topics would give him time to think before he accidently insulted Prowl.

“Yay!” Prowl said, kicking his little legs.

All three went to Prowl’s favorite park. Prowl asked, “Push me on the swings?” Even though Prowl was old enough to swing on his own, he liked a game they played when one twin pushed him.

“Always,” Sideswipe and Sunstreaker answered together. Sunstreaker added, “Want me to stand in front?”

“Yeah!”

The three made their way to the “big younglings” swings and Sideswipe began pushing Prowl until he was up as high as the swings allowed him to go. Sunstreaker called, “Ready Prowl?”

“Ready!” Prowl pulled his doorwings in tight and jumped off the swings and into Sunstreaker’s arms, flaring his doorwings once he cleared the chains and pretended to fly. When he landed against in his creator’s arms he giggled. “Again.”

“You got it,” Sideswipe gave Prowl a thumbs up.

Eventually Prowl flew enough times he needed a break. “Can we sit down on a bench?”

When they were sitting Sideswipe started scanning the playground, looking for examples. “Hey Prowl, see those younglings playing on the jungle-gym?”

Prowl nodded. “They aren’t supposed to run on the jungle-gym. What are they doing?”

“I’m pretty sure they’re playing tag. Looks like fun, doesn’t it?”

“But they aren’t supposed to run.”

Sunstreaker joined in, seeing what Sideswipe was getting at with Prowl. “No one is getting hurt.”

“They could, that’s why the rules exist.”

Sideswipe said, “But that’s what it’s like to be a youngling. You risk getting hurt to have some fun.”

Prowl chewed on his lip. “I don’t want to risk getting hurt.”

The twins took turns hugging Prowl, feeling a little anxiety come from him. Sideswipe continued, “You need to take risks when you get older. Why not now?”

Prowl thought about it. “Okay,” he said uncertain, like he was betraying his feelings.

Sunstreaker soothed, “We won’t do anything too risky today. How about we just play our own game of tag on the other jungle-gym, over on the smaller youngling’s playground?”

Prowl grinned. “You two can’t fit, silly creator.”

Sideswipe playfully rebutted, “We can fit, it just might be tight. All the easier for you to catch us, and maybe you won’t have to run much on the jungle-gym.” Sideswipe suddenly ticked Prowl. “You’re it!”

The twins jumped up and ran to stay only a little ahead of Prowl, hearing their giggling Prowl try chasing them. Sideswipe’s spark danced happily at Prowl’s willingness to bend the rules for him.


End file.
